Fake (N.S)

5. (!)

Niall's POV

I was lying face up on my bed, mindlessly staring at my ceiling when I heard my phone buzz on my nightstand, which pulled me back to reality. I sat up and grabbed my phone, rolling my eyes when I saw that it was Harry who had texted me. 

From Harry:
Come over.

The text didn't even come as a shock, as I was used to getting demanding text messages from Harry but that didn't mean I wasn't irritated by the sight of his name on my screen. 

Though I still found myself rising from my bed without a single thought. I placed a snapback over my messy hair, put my shoes on and walked downstairs, not surprised to see that my parents weren't at home. I knew that they wouldn't care if I were there or not, so I left knowing that they wouldn't worry about my whereabouts if they had come home to find me not there. 

I got into my car, driving the somewhat familiar route to Harry's house. It was rather concerning that I was willing to go to him just because he wanted me to, though I couldn't deny that I didn't want this as much as he did. 

~

Once I arrived at his house, I sent him a text to let him know I was there. He came to the door and let me in, pushing me against the wall as soon as the door was shut and immediately pushing his lips against mine.

Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing us. Harry's parents divorced a while ago, so his dad wasn't around. His sister had moved out to her own place and his mum worked rather strange hours, we were completely alone.

He lifted me into his arms almost effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist and my hands flying up to tangle in his curly hair. He carried me towards his room, not seeming to struggle with holding my weight in the slightest, more focused on kissing me than anything else. 

He set me down on his bed and I immediately worked on removing my clothing, Harry doing the same. After I had bared myself, I allowed him to gently push me so I was laying face down on his bed, groaning when I made contact with the soft surface.

I heard him reach over to grab the condom and bottle of lube from his drawer, returning to me without even bothering to close the drawer. I could feel shuffling behind me, before I felt one of Harry's large fingers enter me quickly.

"God, you're so tight," he breathed out, moving his finger around.

"Harry, shut the fuck up," I hissed as he added another finger.

"Alright, calm down, baby," he replied.

"Don't call me that," I told him, clenching my eyes shut as his fingers pressed against my most sensitive spot, digging my nails into one of his pillows.

He removed his fingers from my arse and thrust in a short moment after. I felt the familiar burn rush through me, the many times we had done this had gotten me used to it, just a small pain for the first minute or so but I barely even felt it.

I gripped his sheets tightly, so tight that my fingers were numb and my knuckles turned white, my breathing turning erratic as he fucked into me with the same fast pace that I had grown so used to.

"Fuck," he groaned, bending down to kiss the side of my neck, his tongue flicking along the sweaty skin, teeth grazing over the reddening mark.

I pushed my hips back, moving them at the same pace as Harry's thrusts, making the friction so much more pleasurable for the both of us. Our rough panting and the squeaking of his bed were the only things to be heard, the room seemed to appear rather cloudy and almost blurred.