Harry Styles One Shots

Bit o' Fun*

"Hey, babe," you greet as you stumble through the doorway. Your feet have been aching in a new pair of heels. Undoing the buckles quickly and whipping the shoes into a corner, you glance up into the depths of a dark hotel room, eyes straining to adjust.

"Harry?"

The curtains are drawn over the window, only a crack of L.A. streetlight seeping into the center of the room. You can faintly make out Harry's silhouette on the edge of the mattress.

"Hey, love."

You take a firm step forward before another two wobbly ones back. There's a second form on the bed, seated right beside Harry. Your fingers fumble along the wall for the light switch.

"Zayn?" You're surprised as dim light filters through the space from a far lamp. Both of the boys squint, eyebrows drawn low on their foreheads.

"'S right." Zayn smiles, flashing his teeth for a brief moment. "Hi, Y/N."

"Where'd you come from?"

"Bumped into each other at the shops," Harry explains, voice drawling slightly longer than usual. You tilt your head.

"Are you drunk?"

"Had a few pints," Zayn acknowledges, grinning again in a way you haven't seen all that often. Your eyes scan his face briefly. He's changed a lot since you've last seen him, only in ways you can't quite place your finger on.

Harry reaches a hand out for you, fingers wiggling in your direction. He has his own goofy grin, one that you're much more accustomed to.

"C'mere, love."

You step toward him and he uses his outstretched hand to pull you closer by your hip. He tilts his chin up as you stumble to stand in between his legs.

"Gimme a kiss. Haven' seen yeh all day."

You lean down gently to peck his lips, bitter with beer. His fingers grip tightly at the curve of your waist while his mouth seeks yours again for more contact.

"Harry," you mumble, cheeks inflaming as you press your fingers into his shoulders to keep him at bay.

"Been talkin' with Zayn." Harry sighs and nuzzles his face into your stomach, warm breath seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt. "Know yeh've always fancied 'im."

"Harry, what—" You can feel the heat from your cheeks snaking down into your chest, turning the skin into a wildfire of embarrassment.

"Don' pretend, pet. Yeh told me so las' time yeh had some drinks."

Zayn just sits quietly, lips quirked up in a cocky sort of confidence. You peel your eyes from him quickly, staring down at the top of Harry's head.

"I didn't—"

"Yeh did." Harry's hands slide down to settle just beneath the edges of your shorts, rings icy against the heat of your thighs. His head tilts back to look into your face. Despite the slight lilt to his voice, he looks completely sober.

"Had a thought, kitten." His fingers loop around to knead at the soft flesh on the back of your thighs, voice dropping even lower. "Surprise fo' my girl. Bit o' fun. 'S tha' sound nice?"

You suddenly notice that you've forgotten to breathe and inhale a deep lungful of air. Your own fingers are digging into Harry's shoulders, your body tense. A shiver rolls up your spine as you press your legs subtly together.

"Yeh wanna have two daddies for t'nigh'?"

A pathetic little sound slips between your lips and you immediately press them together, eyes squeezing shut.