Sidemen Shots

Deepthroat Spray - Wroetostar (5/7)

-(Nonsexual) dom/Sub undertones. Sexual implications/mentions.

Harry loves cuddling. Everyone knows that; even the neighbour's cat knows Harry loves a good snuggle.

Vik also (secretly) loves cuddling. Not many people know that. There is actually only a total of six people in the world who do.

So, of course, they both cuddle together whenever they get a chance.

Harry and Vik love cuddling, together.

~~~

"I got rid of it, Vik." Harry announces as soon as he walks through Vik's front door, shouting so that Vik can hear him in case he's further buried inside the large flat.

He makes sure to shut the door behind himself (he forgets sometimes, and he doesn't like when the boys reprimand him for it so he always tries extra hard to remember) before he heads off in search of his friend.

Harry jumps, letting out a short, high-pitched scream as Vik appears in the doorway to his own bedroom. Harry had just checked inside the bathroom, and Vik hadn't been standing there before he went in. So, of course, it scared him. He's not superhuman.

(He's not super anything, other than stupid. He'd say unlovable too, but that would just be a lie considering the six men that say it to him all the time, on a daily basis at this point. For some reason.)

"That's good." Vik says his response in the hopes to sound neutral, but there is a quiet lilt to his tone that still releases the words as praise.

And Harry positively glows at that praise.

Often, Harry can't take compliments from anyone. Actually, he can never take compliments from people. Praise on the other hand, oh, Harry collects it. If he had to choose between an object he's always wanted and a single sentence of praise, he's choosing praise all the way. Without a doubt.

As a reaction to Harry's happy face, Vik also breaks out in a grin, eyes bright as he flashes pearly teeth Harry's way.

Smile smaller now - but still there - Vik holds out his hand for Harry, waiting until Harry has rushed forward to grab it before guiding his friend into his bedroom.

Sometimes, when he's in a situation like this, alone with just one of the other boys (often Ethan or JJ), being tugged into their bedroom, Harry may anticipate Sexy Times™.

But not with Vik. (Not usually. But, sometimes. Still, not often.)

Inside Vik's room, Harry's shoes are kicked off near the doorway, just in time before Vik hurriedly tugs him closer to the bed. Seemingly impatient, Vik flops down onto his bed with the covers still pulled up. He drags Harry down with him, letting Harry shuffle around until he lies flat in the middle of the bed, his head on the pillows. Then, Vik moves until his body is pressed up against Harry's side, his head on the other's chest.

Harry lies there stiffly for several minutes, but once he realises Vik means for them to stay like this for a while, his whole body goes completely lax. He let's his arms come up to wrap around Vik, leaning forward to kiss the back of his head before relaxing back against the pillows.

The two stay in silence for hours, both having fallen asleep within twenty minutes. Five hours later, when they're both crawling away from the comfort of sleep, Harry breaks that silence.

"Vik?"

Vik hums, signalling Harry to continue. Harry does, sounding as serious as he can with a voice hoarse from sleep.

"Is it bad that sometimes I'm glad you're asexual?"

Harry can't see his face, so Vik moves until he can. He stares up at his friend in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Um..."

"I just- I don't think my ass could take another pounding." Harry says, clearly being honest.

Vik, immediately, rolls his eyes, but then he breaks out into a fit of giggles that have Harry staring at him like he's mad.

"This is why I love you, Harry."

(Ooh, wrong words.)

"I-" Harry can't do it. He waits until Vik has shuffled up a little before he hides his face in the older man's neck. Instead of words, he kisses the skin below Vik's ear and tries to stop his eyes from watering.

(He fails. Instead he ends up crying into Vik's chest for ten whole minutes.)

~~~

"Why?"

Vik looks up from his cereal, bewildered. He makes sure to swallow his mouthful of Cheerios before speaking.

"Why, what?"

Harry bites his lip, staring down at his own bowl of Cheerios that he's been playing with for the past few minutes. Normally, Vik has at least one box of Harry's special cereal in too, but they were out of stock this week. Harry didn't fancy dying at the hands of the substitute boxes, hence why he has a bowl of ghastly little oat donuts. Why of all weeks did Vik have to pick this week to order?

Harry tries not to gag around a spoonful of Cheerios (the evil bastards).

"Why do you guys, um, love me? Like I don't get it."

Vik hurts at the words, feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes at Harry's expression. Yet he pulls through, trying to sound wise and campassionate. (A weird mix for a Sunday morning.)

"Well, why do you love us?"

Harry's response is instant; he doesn't even have to think about it.

"Because you're you."

His words make Vik smile, unfiltered. Harry's own lips twitch unconsciously at the corners because of it.

"There you go then. You have your answer."

Harry's lips stop twitching and his eyebrows furrow. Vik's words make no sense to him.

"You love me because I'm you?"

Vik laughs. "We love you because you're Harry."

Harry tilts his head to one side, trying to understand.

"So you wouldn't love me if I was Dave?"

Vik huffs a laugh, leaning forward across the table to press a kiss to Harry's forehead.

"It doesn't matter what your name is. You could be called Paisley and we'd love you all the same."

Harry's face scrunches at the name Paisley. "Paisley is such a weird name." He swallows, looking unsure now. "You'd really still love me if my name was Paisley?"

"Of course."

Harry breathes an awed sigh. He understands, but part of him still doubts.

"Woah."

Vik nods, smiling. "Woah."

He then spoons another heap of Cheerios into his mouth, trying not to laugh at the glare of distaste Harry sends his bowl.