It's nearing two in the morning when Harry gives up on the idea of sleep.
He had more reason than not to crash on his bed the minute he returned to his hotel room that night due to his busy day from a photo shoot in the morning to interviews and meetings all afternoon and the party event he had to attend that evening. Yet despite his tired body, still jet lagged from his flight the day before, practically begging him to rest, his mind is wide awake. He cannot sleep no matter how hard he tries. Not even the short break he took outside on the balcony, breathing in the fresh air of the night, could help, nor the hot tea he brewed to calm his nerves. By the time he gives up on all prospect of sleep, he's certain he's spent at least two hours tossing and turning.
He's not usually like this. He's spent his fair share in hotel rooms and tight tour bus bunk beds to have his body grow accustomed to the feeling of awkward spaces and scratchy sheets and unfamiliar, foreign walls. He had often prided himself on his ability to sleep nearly anywhere, in any part of the world. So what was bothering him that night? Perhaps it is because his mind is still buzzing, intoxicated from the one too many beers he had that night. Warming his system and sending alerts to his brain to keep him up. It almost makes him regret not going out with his friends to some bar after the party because at least then he would have been occupied, but he had been so certain three hours earlier that he was tired. Maybe it is because he can hear faint chattering voices from a few rooms down and the soft blast of music from an unsolicited party in the hotel.
No. No, it isn't any of that, and he knows that for a fact because he doesn't really need to think long and hard about it when he misses her. It's as simple as that. He misses Y/N. But like the unfamiliar hotels and the busy schedule, he should have been used to being so far away from her. He had only been away from her for a day but he had gone even longer than that before without missing her so terribly. He tells himself he'll be with her again in just two more days, but it doesn't seem to work. He misses her in every way possible. He misses the sugary scent of her perfume, always enveloping him in a warm hug; he misses the familiar heat of her body next to him at night, the way she curls up into to him, her head nuzzled against his side, misses the way she usually runs her fingers through his hair and down his arms and traces his tattoos; he misses kissing her, from the deep, yearning kisses to the sweet little pecks that make her giggle. God, he just misses her and it doesn't help that during those two hours he spent tossing and turning, when he could have already been asleep, his mind had been filled with her.
Yet, the more time passed and the more desperate he became to fall asleep, the faster he learned in just what particular way he missed her. He can feel it growing in intensity with each second, the way it burns in the pit of his stomach and has his head spinning. And the moment he lets himself become aware of his neediness, his thoughts are invaded with such tragically tempting memories of her. The way her teeth gnaw on her pouty lower lip, her eyes wide as they watch and anticipate his every move. The swell of her bare breasts and the way they feel beneath his hands, soft and warm. Her pretty thighs shaking, quivering, with pleasure, daring to squeeze shut to hide her leaking arousal. The way she feels wrapped around his cock-
He feels like he's going to explode. Now he realizes that his inability to fall asleep is due to the fact that he's antsy. Maybe he shouldn't have had that extra beer. Maybe it's what pushed him over the edge. But now he's here, wide awake and helplessly hard, growing with each second. Suddenly his joggers feel tight and constricting around his length and he reaches down to palm himself through the material. The pressure doesn't do much to help him, though. He already knows he won't be content unless he has her there. Unless he has her help him. He could call her but it's too late for that. She definitely wouldn't be awake now, and it's not as if he'd want to be the reason to wake her up at this hour. But, God, he really did need help.
