narry storan one shots.

sexual healing. +

CREDITS TO: SAYSTHEMAGPIE ON Ao3. SMUT AHEAD. (!!)

"Mr. Horan?"

Niall looks up. "That's me," he says, which is probably obvious considering he's the only person in the waiting room. He'd shown up for his appointment nearly an hour early, following the instructions left for him over voicemail. There wasn't even a receptionist there to greet him, just a stack of forms emblazoned with the logo of the La Grenouille Day Spa & Energy Healing Center. On the first page, someone had written Please complete prior to meeting with your healer in sparkly purple gel pen.

Niall had done so. The questionnaire struck him as a bit odd; in addition to providing information about his family's medical history dating back four generations, he'd also had to answer a series of open-ended short answer questions, among them Describe your relationship with the childhood pet whose death affected you most and Do you have a favorite moon phase? Why or why not?

Then he'd waited. And waited.

The slim young man who stands in front of him now is dressed in the oddest robe Niall's ever seen, a purple silk monstrosity with extravagantly large sleeves. It looks sort of like the deranged lovechild of a kimono and a nineteenth-century spinster's dressing gown.

"Welcome to La Grenouille," he says. "My name is Harry Styles and I'll be your therapist-healer today."

"I'm Niall," Niall says, extending his hand.

Harry doesn't shake it, just presses his palms together as if in prayer and bows deeply at the waist. "Yes, I know," he says. "I could detect your aura even from my office."

"Oh no," Niall says. "Is that bad?"

Harry doesn't answer the question right away. Instead he presses his fingers to his temples and closes his eyes, grimacing. After a moment he opens them again.

"Best to keep your mind fixed on the positive, I find," he says to Niall, rather ominously, before turning and sweeping out of the room.

Niall hesitates, glancing around the empty waiting room, then hurries after him down a long dark corridor.

"Have you visited our healing center before, Mr. Horan?" Harry asks politely, opening the last door and ushering Niall into a small, dimly lit room that smells strongly of lavender. In the center of the room is a large massage table surrounded by flickering candles. Soft, meditative music plays quietly from unseen speakers.

"Just Niall, please," Niall replies. "And no—it's me first time getting a massage thingy, actually."

Harry raises his eyebrows at that and produces a small notepad and a pen from his robe, marking something down. "Well, I hope we can make your experience a memorable one. Before we begin, I'll need you to please remove all your clothes and lie facedown on the table under the sheet."

"All my clothes?" Niall asks.

Harry gives him a look. "Everything," he says firmly. "In the meantime, I'll look over your paperwork and make sure everything's in order."

Once Harry's gone, Niall toes off his trainers and strips off his jeans and t-shirt, folding them carefully on the counter. After a moment of hesitation, he takes his briefs off too and tucks them away carefully under his jeans. Then he slips under the sheet, lying flat on his stomach with his arms by his side and his chin resting on the headrest, which has a circle cut out where his face goes.

It's a little awkward, but on the whole, more comfortable than he'd expected. The room's warm and the sheets are soft against his naked skin. Niall nearly dozes off listening to the music, which consists primarily of reedy flute melodies, bird calls, and what sounds a lot like large rocks being dropped into deep water.