Chapter Text
I'm not angry. Not any more.
His smile was the first thing Liam noticed.
He was across the room again, but not working the bar. No, not even drinking. Just sitting there on a stool with his beloved gold boots on his feet, a little tarnished now so many years on. The black skinny jeans he never tired of were a tight fit over his thighs where his legs were crossed. He looked good. Really good, with one of those floral shirts Liam had seen him wear in photos on Niall's Facebook unbuttoned halfway down his chest, that stupid butterfly tattoo near completely on show. His hair was still long – well, Liam thought it might be but it was pulled into a bun, a few stray curls tucked behind one of his ears like he'd thrown it all up in a rush.
Still, Liam couldn't take his eyes off him. Even missed his first verse because of it. Harry'd smiled harder as Niall bumped into Liam's shoulder, a mouthed "What's wrong?" that Liam shook off.
He got it the next go around, but still, he kept his eyes on Harry until they played the last of their set and headed off stage.
Five years. Five years since they'd been in the same room together. Five years since it had all fallen apart with a note and a house that was no longer a home.
Liam's feet took him to Harry as if he had no choice in the matter.
"You sound great," Harry said as Liam stood there in front of him, ignoring the rest of the bar. A few girls were trying to get his attention but Liam only had eyes for Harry. Always had done since that night in a pub so many years ago.
"Thanks," Liam nodded. God, Harry looked so good. So good. He didn't look all that different. Now Liam was closer he could see a few extra lines around his eyes, a thinness to his upper lip that hadn't been there before. He stilled filled out a shirt well, though. A few more tattoos on his arms that Liam didn't know intimately. The "I can't change" on his wrist covered with an anchor. Thick silver rings on his finger that weren't the ones Liam had bought him.
"You want a–"
"How've you–"
Liam paused, looking down at his shoes as Harry chuckled nervously in front of him. Why he'd thought it would be a good idea to wear new shoes when he'd be mostly on his feet all night was beyond him. They pinched in the toe like a bitch and he was sure there was a blister forming on his left heel.
"Sorry," Liam said, looking back up at Harry with a wry grin. God, he felt so nervous and this was just . . . it was Harry, but at the same time it was Harry five years on. The same Harry who had left him with just a note. The same Harry he'd successfully avoided since then. Who Liam had tried to move on from.The same Harry he hadn't ever been able to get out of his mind.
Harry shook his head. "It's–" he led off with a shrug, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Asking how you are seems a bit like a crap thing to start off with, really."
"A little. About the same as 'You want a drink?' when clearly you have one." Liam glanced down at the glass in Harry's hand, half filled with liquid and a slice of lime. Liam would have bet money on it being a gin and tonic. Seemed more than one thing had stayed the same.
The bird behind the bar appeared then, looking at Liam, and he ordered a Coke. His days of drinking were long gone. Harry didn't bat an eyelash; then again, Liam expected he would know something of Liam's life. The paps had done a smashing job of putting his face everywhere after he was in that altercation with security in New York, forced into rehab and not touching a drop since.
He sipped at his drink and Harry did his as the sounds of the party started filtering back in. It was a private event, a charity gig for something Louis'd been a part of once they started getting a name for themselves. Even more so in the past two years when he'd discovered he was going to be a dad, a one night stand that turned into a little lad he wouldn't be parted from. Liam hadn't expected to really see anyone he knew here, especially not the man sitting in front of him. Not here in London, when the last Liam had heard LA was still Harry's home.
"I meant it. The set was great," Harry said after the silence between them had gone on for what felt like too long. "You sound really good."
Liam nodded his thanks again, sipped his drink and tried to think of what he could say next that wouldn't make him sound like a fool. He was, though. He was still a fool around Harry, still so unsure of himself because of the history they had, the past he'd never really been able to leave behind.
"Didn't expect to see you here," was what he settled for when he could feel Harry's eyes trained on him and he couldn't stay silent any longer.
Harry swirled the ice in his glass, near melted. "Louis sent me the invite. Told me it was in my best interest to buy a table, if not two."
Liam had been told the same thing. He'd bought two and consented to auctioning off one of his old guitars, as well as playing for free on the night. He'd actually come out of it a bit better than Josh, who'd ended up having to put himself up for auction for a "date night" with the lucky winner. It'd gone surprisingly well earlier. A close bidding war between a woman who had to be in her late fifties and some starlet that Liam thought Josh might have slipped some extra money to help her win with. Liam was sure he'd seen her around at rehearsals the previous week. Then again, if he’d been put in a similar position he probably would have paid for someone to bid on him, too.
"I paid for two. One for the family and the other I gave away to the Priory Centre. They deserve a night of fun, that lot."
Harry smiled softly, his fingertips a light touch on Liam's wrist where he was leaning on the bar. Liam's whole side buzzed from it. "I meant what I said before, Li. You look good. Really good."
Liam knew what he was getting at. Hadn't been able to see at the time, three years back, when his life had gone utterly tits-up. He drank too much, put things in his body that he shouldn't have, and got angry far too often. Long gone was the fit body he'd worked so hard for. The smile that was so often in magazines everywhere was lost to a sneer or his face hidden by giant sunglasses or his own hand flipping them the bird. Liam snorted, unable to look away from Harry's earnest stare. "I'm trying, yeah. It's hard sometimes but, you know, day by day and all that."
Harry stared at him, eyes soft, and Liam could read the apologies all over his face. Knew what Harry was going to say before he even opened his mouth. This wasn’t really the place, though, too many eyes that might find them, too many ears that might listen in on their words.
“Do you want to talk somewhere?” Harry asked, looking a little as if those weren’t exactly the words he intended to have come out.
Liam paused. He could just leave. Walk away like Harry had all those years ago, or he could finally talk this through, maybe work out what had gone wrong between them instead of guessing at Harry’s side of it.
“Yeah,” Liam answered on a breath. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
Harry smiled and stood, beckoning with a tilt of his head for Liam to follow. Liam did, only realising as they made their way outside past security that Harry’s hand had slipped down from his wrist. Their fingers slotted together in a loose grip around each other's knuckles. He followed Harry along a path that led to the side of the house – mansion, really – down some stairs toward the gardens. Liam had seen a little of them earlier, chasing after Louis’ little boy before Jay had come to take him home for the night. He had a vague idea of where Harry was taking him as they wandered down the stone path and stopped at the balcony that overlooked one of the ponds, a lone water feature softly bubbling in the middle. When Harry let their fingers drop, Liam kept the tremble out of his fingertips by grasping the concrete balustrade tight. The moonlight from above reflected over the pond, broken only by the long arms of the large willow tree that loomed from one side. With Harry this presence beside him, this moment could have been something along the lines of romantic.
Liam wasn’t sure that what was finally going to be aired between them would be anything to support that. Or if it was something he wanted.
“He picked a good place for this, didn’t he?” Liam asked once the silence of night descended around them, the noise from the party fading in the distance.
Harry cleared his throat. “Must have cost him a few quid.”
“Might actually have to make that fifth album after all,” Liam chuckled, but it fell flat. He didn’t really think this was what Harry wanted to take him away from everyone to discuss. Didn’t think he really wanted to talk about Louis’ income now the band had been in hiatus for the past year and half.
Harry didn’t say anything more and Liam didn’t, either. He hadn’t seen Harry like this, properly, for so long. When Harry’d emptied out their house, he’d never come back. Liam had tried to find where he was through mutual friends, drunk-dialled Harry’s phone too many times, but Harry’d got a new number. He cut off Niall and the other lads in the band for a few years, too, while Liam went on a somewhat downward spiral and Harry had a new life that didn’t involve him at all. God, he had so many questions and so much to apologise for, but he was hurt, too. He wanted Harry to explain as much as he wanted to explain himself.
Liam glanced to his left, catching Harry’s profile. He was looking out over the water, forefinger and thumb pinching at his bottom lip, a sure sign he was nervous and thinking deeply.
Maybe it would have to be Liam who spoke first. Maybe it was something he could do for both of them.
“I’m sorry,” Liam spoke soft, not trusting his voice to hold, there was already a tightness in his chest from emotion building. “I’m sorry I was so shit to you back then. Took you for granted so much.”
“Liam,” Harry started, but Liam wanted to do this, wanted to do it right, now that he had the opportunity.
He turned and shook his head. “No, just – let me talk for a minute, yeah? I think it’s important.”
Harry nodded slow, tucking a stray curl behind his ear as he turned to the side, leaning against the stone with his hip, green eyes focused fully on Liam.
Liam took in a shaky breath, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I am sorry. I’m sorry for the part I had in us not working. All the times I kept pushing you to the side and putting music or management or anything but you first. You deserved better than that. You deserved better than me just assuming you’d be there for everything, that you didn’t need my support as much as I craved yours.”
Harry was shaking his head, reaching out to put his hand on Liam’s elbow. “You tried, Liam. You were always asking me to come with you and I always found an excuse and–”
“Harry, can you let me apologise for this, just . . . please?” Liam interrupted. He’d wanted to say sorry for so long and had never had the opportunity. Never really pushed for it, either, with how hurt he’d been at the start and upset with himself about how he’d treated Harry in the end.
Harry huffed, but squeezed at Liam’s elbow. “I can accept that, yeah. But you have to let me explain, too. I never told you properly how you were making me feel but I never did anything about it, either. I lost myself in you. Lost myself in being everything for you and forgetting to be anything for myself. I could have spoken to you about things so many times but I didn’t, because I thought loving you was enough, until it just . . . .” Harry shrugged, and Liam could see tears building in his eyes, a sheen that even the muted moonlight from above picked up.
He slipped his hand out of his jacket, linked his fingers with Harry’s own. “Until it wasn’t.”
Harry smiled, but it came with a sniff, a tear rolling down his cheek that he wiped away with the back of his free hand. “Yeah. And fuck, Liam, I’m so sorry for the way I left you. I’ve hated myself for that for so long. Even when I was moving all my stuff, taking things apart that I knew would hurt you the most, I knew it was a bad idea, but I was just so angry. Angry at what my life had become, angry at you for not seeming to care about us. I wanted to hurt you as much as I was hurting, so I left and . . . I wasn’t even with Xander then, but I knew what saying his name would do, what throwing it in there would make you think.”
Liam swallowed hard and his grip on Harry loosened at the sound of Xander’s name, old anger a quick burn through his bones. “I thought . . . there were pictures of you, though? On your Instagram and Facebook. You changed your fucking relationship status, Harry.”
Harry ducked his head. “That was after. Long after I’d left you. Xander wanted something and he never pushed while I was with you. But he was the reason that I finally let you go. He was there, you know? He was there and he was interested in me and he kept asking why I was doing a job I didn’t love, and why I wasn’t using my degree, and why I was staying in something I was so obviously unhappy with, and I realised he was right. Being with him came much later, only once I’d sorted myself out.”
Liam was getting properly worked up about this now. It didn’t matter that it was in the past and done with. “You could have told me all of those things, you know? I came home that night and I was so set on working out what was wrong with us. I’d booked us this holiday away from everyone and everything to fix us, but you’d already decided we weren’t worth that. You didn’t even say goodbye, just that fucking letter, Harry. Do you know how badly I’ve felt about you? Thought you’d cheated on me, cheated on us!”
“It wasn’t as if there was an ‘us’ to cheat on! You were never there." Harry raised his voice in return. "You never asked me what I wanted, only told me what would be best for us. Like, did you even think about whether I’d be able to take all that time off work for your ‘fix-it’ holiday? Did you even consider that I might have things going on in my own life before you yet again lumped me in with yours? I was like another piece of luggage for you, just this commodity you could shift around and use when needed.”
Liam shifted back, felt a bit like he’d been hit. “I never . . . I didn’t mean to. I, fuck, I didn’t–”
“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you," Harry added, all the fight going out of his tone. "I kept so much from you because in the end I just didn't think you cared." He shrugged, looking down at the ground.
"Care? I always cared, Harry. I may have ignored what was going on between us but I loved you. I love you and I thought it was enough, and maybe it was for me, or maybe it was ridiculous that I thought like that, but don't doubt how much I love you." Liam stopped, trying to catch his breath, heart beating loud and reckless in his ears.
Harry was silent and Liam felt like he'd gone too far. Said too much. Harry was still holding his hand, though. Still keeping a tether between them, as tense as it might have been right then, as loose as it had become through their years apart. Still unbroken, but maybe a little frayed around the edges.
"Love," Harry whispered after minutes had passed in relative silence between them. His voice was so soft that Liam wasn't exactly sure he'd heard the word at all.
"Some loves you don't fall out of." Liam shrugged, a truth too close to his heart to lie about. Not now. Not after all this time.
Harry nodded and Liam watched as he took in a shaky breath, letting it out on a long sigh.
Maybe it was too much. Maybe Harry didn't feel like Liam did any more. Maybe he'd never felt like Liam had, right from the start.
"Come home with me," Harry said, still facing the pond. He squeezed Liam's hand, turning around eventually, his gaze still focused somewhere on the ground. "Come home with me, please."
Liam shook his head, a feeling he couldn't label blooming in his chest. "Harry," he answered softly.
"Just . . . don't say no. This doesn't have to be difficult, Liam. Just – just come home with me, come home with me now."
Liam looked at Harry. Really looked at him, taking in his shy smile, dimple deep on the left side, and his eyes bright with promise. Liam could see that he was sure about this, that it was actually something he wanted. Something he wanted enough to ask for.
Liam squeezed Harry's hand tight in his own.
"All right, Harry. All right."
Sometimes I wake up and it's like I can still feel you lying next to me. Feel the warmth of you inches from my fingertips, only to remember you're gone when I reach out to hold you and find an empty space instead. You never know when the last time is going to be the last time, do you? Don't think I would have let you go if I'd known then what I do now.
Liam had no real recollection how they made it upstairs, to Harry's bedroom. Once there, they'd made quick work of their clothes. Well, Harry'd stripped Liam fast. He'd barely taken a second to rid himself of his own button down, tiny yellow buttons flying as he tugged the thing over his head with one hand, the other focused on pulling Liam's fly down. He'd pushed Liam onto the bed the moment his hands were both free, dragging Liam's jeans and pants down his legs in one go. Harry's green eyes were focused on Liam's own, this potent gaze that Liam couldn't bring himself to break. Not now, not after all this time.
Harry's fingertips were a slow drag from the curve of Liam's calves up until he was spreading Liam's knees apart, crawling between Liam's legs. His breath a wet heat as he bent low, a gentle caress on the paler skin of Liam's inner thighs and Liam could only gasp and choke on bitten off moans as each kiss lingered into a nip here, a mark left there. Liam crushed the duvet in his fists, needing something to ground him to the here and now. The fact that this was happening.
Harry was so close to where Liam's cock was hard and twitching up against his belly. Fuck, did he want more, need more, but Harry was focused and Liam didn't want to break this spell between them. He didn't have to in the end. Harry glanced up through dark lashes, lips a breath's distance from the crease of Liam's thigh, green eyes near glazed over. Liam's dick kicked, a blurt of precome bubbling up from the slit, Harry's tongue swiping over the tip with a barely concealed moan.
Harry'd always loved giving Liam head. Loved doing anything and everything to Liam's body, really. Great sex had never been their problem, whenever they'd been together.
Liam blinked and then Harry was right there, taking him in slow, the ends of his curls brushing against the twitching planes of Liam's stomach. His fingers a hard press in the meat of Liam's thighs as he went down, down, taking Liam right to the back of his throat. Christ, Liam's heart was thundering in his chest now, as Harry's hand circled the base of his cock, holding him steady. The flat of Harry's tongue was relentlessly swirling round the tip, foreskin tight at the head. Jesus. Liam's toes curled into the plush carpet as Harry shuffled even closer, forehead butting Liam's belly as he went down on Liam again and again. His hair was just everywhere and hiding his face from Liam's eyes. He needed to see, but wasn't sure what the rules here were. Did Harry still like it when someone played with his hair? Was he still as into being directed as he had once been?
The decision was made when Harry came up for air. His lips bruised and puffed up rosy red, slick with spit and precome as he looked up at Liam, lashes damp from where he'd gone a bit too far before. "Please, Li- just, my-"
It wasn't really a sentence - wasn't really a demand, either - but Liam understood. He let loose the duvet, and with a shaking hand, swept Harry's dark, damp hair from his forehead and neck, gathering as much as he could into a tight fist at the top of Harry's head. The moan Harry released when their eyes finally locked reverberated down Liam's shaft and it took everything not to let his hips jack up, force more of his cock into the sweet suction of Harry's mouth.
Harry seemed to want it anyway, pushing his head up into Liam's hand before taking Liam in, down, down until he was near choking. He blinked up at Liam with wet eyes when he came up again, crown of Liam's dick sat on the fat of bottom lip. "Please, Li. You can, want you to."
Christ, his voice was already hoarse.
"Oh fuck, Harry,"
His mouth was just so warm and wet and Liam had to bite his lip with the effort not to blurt out anything else. It wasn't as if he hadn't had any blowjobs or sex after Harry, but it was different when someone knew you so well. Someone who knew exactly what it was that made you moan or lose that tiny bit of self control, give in to what felt good. Liam and Harry had had over five years together. Even if it’d now been the same amount of time apart, there were some things you just didn't forget.
Like how much Harry liked having his hair played with.
Harry's curls felt like silk beneath his fingertips. Soft and thick and perfect as he pushed down, held Harry where he wanted him. For a second, when he looked and saw how utterly blissed out Harry was, lashes fluttering against his cheek, it was as if five years, six, seven hadn't passed. This could have been in their bedroom in Malibu, on their sofa in their penthouse at Canary Wharf, the tiny loo backstage in some arena in France, that poxy flat with the mustard carpet way back in the beginning.
So much had happened since then. So many wrong turns and endings yet they still made it here. They were here now. It had to mean something, didn't it?
The thought, just a glimpse of what it might mean had his next breath shuddering in his chest.
It felt so good as Harry took him deeper, Liam holding him down for an extra beat with the flutter of Harry's throat at the tip. The soft, almost desperate sound of Harry whining when he did, Harry squeezing at Liam's thighs so hard there were sure to be bruises. Liam wanted them. Wanted to know that there would be evidence of whatever this was to be found later. Little pieces of what they were creating that he could touch and feel so it wasn't merely a memory.
Harry bumped up at Liam's hand twice, a sign he wanted Liam to relax his hold which Liam did, almost from muscle memory. Harry drew off with a loud wet pop. "Jesus, Li. . . I want," Harry panted, lips a soft caress over the tip of Liam's prick. His pupils were so blown out there was hardly even a hint of colour left at all. God, Harry was getting off on this and that was so incredibly hot.
Harry seemed to have his own agenda, easing back a little from between Liam's legs, his hands resting over Liam's knees. "Lay back a bit, yeah?" Harry asked, tongue swiping quick across his bottom lip, bruised red.
Liam did, lifting his knees toward his chest as Harry's palms swept under his thighs, moving Liam where he wanted. Liam's eyes slipped shut as his head came to rest on the mattress, his breathing sounded loud in his ears and Harry was being so quiet.
"Oh, fuck!" Liam cursed, as the flat of Harry’s tongue swept across his hole and up to his bollocks. Oh god. It'd been so long, so long since anyone had. . . and Harry was just.
For the first time since he'd caught Harry's eyes across a room, Liam closed his own.
It was too much. Too much with how good Harry was at this. The sounds Harry was making as he circled the tip of his tongue over the tight furl of Liam's hole. Pulled Liam's cheeks apart so he could fit his mouth there, licking and sucking and making such a wet mess between Liam's thighs, he could feel it dripping down between them. Liam's back arched, his hold on his knees slipping as he tried to keep them as close to his chest as possible, give Harry the room he so obviously wanted. Liam cursed, biting at his lip as the tip of Harry's tongue pressed in close, getting deeper and deeper as Liam loosened up.
"Fuck, shit!" Liam swore again, as the pad of Harry's finger circled his rim, following the same circuit as his tongue sending Liam's nerves into overdrive. His heart was pounding, tattooing a rhythm that was sure to take chips out of his ribs with each beat.
Harry's finger slid in slow, up to one knuckle and then deeper still as he bit at Liam's thigh taking Liam’s breath away. It was sensation overload as he started fucking into Liam while his lips skimmed Liam’s length, precome blurting sticky onto Liam’s stomach as he did. Liam’s hands slipped on his sweat tacky skin as Harry took the head of Liam’s cock into his mouth, a distraction as one finger became two. The hum of Harry’s mouth reverberated down his shaft, Harry's thumb rubbing slow circles at his rim as Harry scissored his fingers on the slide out.
“Harry, Harry, fuck,” Liam near begged, unable to to get much more out as Harry’s tongue slid between his fingers, teasing at Liam’s skin. His free hand took over on Liam’s cock, jacking him slow, a slick glide from spit and precome. It was so much, too much.
When Harry added a third finger, stars bloomed in technicolour bursts behind Liam’s eyes, his nails dug into the underside of his knees, sure to leave deep pink marks behind. He was so close to losing control before this but now. . . .
The sound of Harry between his legs was dirty and wet, so, so wet as he spat between his fingers, Liam’s skin flushed with heat it was almost a relief before Harry started twisting his fingers again. A knuckle or two brushing up against Liam’s prostate in a near continuous manner that had Liam’s thighs shaking. Christ, he was gonna come, Harry was going to have him coming like this and not yet, not yet. Liam needed him closer than this. Needed to feel Harry inside him proper once more.
"Harry, wait. Harry," Liam gasped as Harry mouthed at Liam’s bollocks, this wet heat that had Liam’s eyes near rolling into the back of his head. Pleasure curled deep in his gut, spilling through his veins and making his chest tight.
"What, is it all right?"
All right? That was an understatement that had Liam huffing out a laugh. "Yeah, just. I don't want to come yet, not like this," Liam couldn't really get what he wanted to say out. he didn't want Harry to stop, but he also wanted more.
Harry paused, removed his fingers slow only to slide his palms up the quivering muscle of Liam’s thighs, easing Liam’s hold and gradually bringing Liam’s feet to the mattress. His lips met the inside of Liam’s knee in a sweet kiss, the crease of his thigh, an inch left of his belly button as he crawled up the bed and over Liam.
Harry’s hair was an absolute mess when Liam caught sight of the top of Harry’s head, his tongue flicking out over one of Liam's nipples, then the other. He nipped a mark between the two on Liam’s chest that was sure to last for days, making Liam gasp. He ran his hands down Harry’s sides, fingertips pushing at the waistband of Harry’s pants, his jeans having slide down further.
“Harry,” Liam whined, unsure of what Harry was up to considering he could feel the scratchy material of Harry’s jeans between his thighs, where Harry was half lying. He blinked slow as Harry’s face came into view, a sly - almost self satisfied - grin with one dimple on display. His lips were red raw and puffy and Liam thought nothing of it to reach up, thread his fingers through Harry’s hair at the back of his neck and pull him in close. Harry deepened the kiss quick, his tongue moving swift and slick against Liam’s own. Liam tightened his grip in Harry’s hair, needing him closer still. It was almost painful with how Harry rutted up against him when he did. The denim covering Harry’s legs scraping up against Liam’s bare cock causing his lashes to flutter. Why wasn't Harry naked yet?
“Harry, please,” Liam begged against Harry’s lips, gasped out another plea as Harry nipped at the line of his jaw, his mouth a firm press at Liam’s throat as he tilted his head back. “Babe, please. I, I need - please.” The term of endearment slipped almost too easily from his tongue.
“Okay,” Harry said after a moment, pulling himself back with a deep line between his eyes, marring his forehead. As if he were coming to a decision or perhaps just realising how certain Liam was of what he wanted now. “Okay.”
He shook his head as if to clear it, rolling off Liam to the side of the bed where he dragged his jeans down, wriggling out of his pants as he fiddled about in the top of his bedside drawers. A box and a tube coming flying onto the bed before Liam was sent bouncing a bit, as Harry near jumped back onto the mattress with him.
Liam’s laugh filled the room, joined quickly by Harry’s as he got between Liam’s legs once more. The smile on his face made him look younger, reminded Liam of how they were when they first got together. Of how easy it was to bring Harry home that night at the pub. How easy it was to decide not to let him go.
He’d taken so much of Harry for granted, he didn’t want to do that anymore.
“You, you sure about this?” Liam asked, a slight stutter in his tone as he reached out with one hand, his fingertips a light touch on Harry’s wrist where his hand rested on Liam’s thigh.
Harry’s head tilted to the side, his curls falling down in a mess over one eye. “About this? About us, now?”
Liam nodded, ignoring the tightness in his chest that seemed to appear out of nowhere with how serious Harry had begun to sound. He knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t just Harry for tonight. He’d take it, yes. . . but he wanted more. Had always wanted more. He knew he could do it better, do them better if he tried, if Harry let him.
Harry leaned in, hands planted on Liam’s chest as he ducked in slow, kissed Liam deep and passionate. His eyes were so green, so clear as he looked back at Liam.
“I’m sure I want you. I don’t think I’ve ever been unsure of that, really,”
And well, that was good enough for now. Liam kissed him back quick, hands finding their way to Harry’s waist. Harry’s skin was so warm as Liam slid his hands up over Harry’s back, holding him close, keeping him near as he deepened the kiss between them. Harry moaned into Liam’s mouth, sitting up after a moment with a determined look. He grabbed at the condom, rolling it on swiftly as Liam watched, held out the lube when Harry was done. His mouth was near watering, body on edge as Harry slicked himself up, put more on the tips of his fingers, rubbing them together before sliding them in Liam again, one finger curled at the rim and stretching Liam out, making sure he was ready.
Liam grunted a bit, knowing it’d been a while - a long while - since he’d let anyone fuck him and Harry wasn’t exactly small so the extra care was definitely warranted. He’d had enough of that, though. Harry’d done an exemplary job now he just wanted Harry’s cock deep inside, fucking the thought of anyone else ever being in this position with Liam completely out of his mind. And out of Harry’s, too, if Liam could help it.
Harry’s fingertips were light as they ran up Liam’s thigh, curled around his right knee, bringing it up close to Liam’s body, holding him open as Harry lined himself up with his free hand. Once, twice, he slid the tip of his cock through the slick between Liam’s legs, the tip slipping over the rim each time until finally it caught, Harry pushing in slow and reminding Liam to breath as his body let Harry inside. Christ it was good, so fucking good. How Liam had gone as long as he had - since the last time he and Harry’d been in this position - was beyond him. He hadn’t let anyone else do this. He never really questioned why. Though in his heart of hearts he knew.
“Fuck, Liam, babe, you’re so. . . feel so. . . .” Harry lead off, rolling his hips slow, splitting Liam apart little by little. Liam tried to concentrate on breathing even though it felt like his chest was fit to burst. He felt so much and his heart, his heart seemed to be knitting back together, the unused part that forever belonged to Harry stuttering back into use.
Harry bottomed out, stilling for a moment, bottom lip quivering as he breathed shakily in and out, giving Liam time to adjust. Liam didn’t need that, not now, he just wanted Harry. All of him.
Liam curled his hand over Harry’s shoulder, reaching up off the bed to close the distance between them. He nipped at the point of Harry’s chin groaning as Harry rutted forward, hand slipping, pushing Liam’s leg out more.
“C’mon, Haz. Need you to-” Liam started, eyes fluttering to a close as Harry finally moved. “Yeah,” Liam whispered, lips close to Harry’s cheek. “Like that.”
Harry moaned low, lips catching Liam's in a dirty kiss that his tongue echoed each thrust of his hips, dicking into Liam deep. He felt so full, Harry filling him up and stretching him wide, Harry's cock sliding in sweet as he sped up his movements. It felt so good, so perfect like they'd never stopped. Like this could have been any of the times they'd ever been together. Yet different, because there was no time limit for them now. No flights to ready for, tours to plan, no jealous scores to settle. Lost time, though? Plenty of that to make up for.
Liam's hands were restless over Harry's skin, needing to touch him everywhere, keep him close, feel as much as he could. The broad span of his back, the twist and shift of muscle that played under skin that had failed to completely lose its summer tan. His shoulders, Christ, Harry's shoulders. The dark lines that littered his body in scattered shapes and meanings, Liam's favourites: the twin birds on his chest. To lean in and press his tongue to every inked line he knew well and those that he didn't. To get lost in Harry like this was something he thought he'd never get to have again, he didn't want to even consider that this might be another last time. Not with the little they'd both said. All they'd both admitted to now.
"Like this?" Harry asked, voice so deep it near melted in Liam's ear where his teeth were close, nipping at the lobe. "Want me to fuck you like this?"
Liam could only whimper, pressing a weak hand to Harry's cheek as he brought Harry's mouth back to Liam's own. "Yeah, yes, yes," he said, pressing each word to Harry's lips, licking the hint of laughter from Harry's mouth with the twirl of his tongue.
Harry's free hand slid over Liam's chest, brushing through the hair there, light over his nipple and back up and over his shoulder, gripping tight. Liam could feel every touch like a spark to his skin, the warmth in his belly, that tug down deep in his gut pulling tight now as every roll of Harry's hips, every part of them that was touching had him closer and closer to coming. It was too soon though, too soon when all he wanted was this feeling to continue. This knife's edge Harry had him on, the way he'd press in deep and pull out nearly all the way before fucking back in again was exquisite. Each brush of his lips against Liam's own dragging him closer and closer and fuck, fuck.
Harry's hand slipped under Liam's knee, changing the angle enough to have Liam shouting a curse. Two more strokes and he was coming without any chance to stave it off. His orgasm thundering through his body, fingertips pressed deep into the flesh of Harry's bicep, the soft curve of his waist as he held on, cock spurting wet between them.
"Fuck, Liam, Liam," Harry blinked, tone a mix of shock and awe as Liam continued to come, painting his chest with sticky white and a spot near his bloody birthmark by the feel of it. He couldn't answer Harry back, could barely remember to breathe as Harry slowed the roll of his hips, a delicious drag as Liam's body shook and shuddered, leaving Liam a panting mess.
"Keep, keep going," he managed to choke out, licking over his lips and swallowing hard, his throat dry and slightly scratchy from the sounds he'd made as Harry continued to move, slow and sure.
That line was there in between his eyes again, and Liam reached up with a ridiculously shaky hand, pushed at it weakly with his thumb. "Please, please. Need you to. . . want you to come in me, Harry. Harry, please,"
Harry was silent for one beat, two. Big eyes blinking slow at where Liam lay beneath him, barely breathing himself. God it was so much. So much to have Harry like this again, now.
"Oh god. Oh god okay, okay," Harry mumbled and with a low whine he shifted position, moved Liam's thighs around his waist and planted his hands into the mattress either side of Liam's head.
Liam crossed his ankles, trying to keep Harry close as his body weight pressed Liam into the bed. Harry really let go then, fucking into Liam hard and fast, shaking the bed frame against the wall with a steady thump, thump thump. Fuck, Liam was. . . it was too much but not enough. Liam nipped his way over the sharp line of Harry's collarbone, leaving his own marks as he went, barely able to do much else. Liam was still so sensitive he was near shaking as Harry's breath sped up, Liam's name interspersed with gasps and cut off groans at Liam's ear.
"Fuck, babe, Liam. Li - fuck!" Harry's breath was warm and wet where he had his face pressed into the crook of Liam's neck, his lips meeting Liam's skin on shaky exhales. Liam held on, arms tucked close against Harry's sides, fingertips grasping for purchase over the shift of muscles in Harry's back. Blunt nails dragging their way down the length of Harry's spine and up again, needing to see Harry's face. Needing to see him come apart one more time. See if it was the same as before.
He cradled Harry's jaw between his palms, couldn't stop staring at Harry's face, how hard Harry was trying to keep his eyes open. Keep his focus on Liam and only Liam as he was finally falling apart.
"C'mon, Harry, let go, babe," Liam near whispered, this moment between them feeling so intimate. So much more than Liam could have ever hoped for. Imagined.
Harry licked over his lips one last time, pretty white teeth sinking deep into his bruised bottom lip as he grunted. His hips shoving into Liam hard as he came, dick twitching deep inside making Liam's own prick - ridiculously half hard again - fill up further. Harry's eyes never left Liam's own as he shook and shuddered, rolling his hips against Liam again and again. Short punchy thrusts that had Liam tightening around Harry, wanting to keep him as close as possible for as long as he could. Harry's arms were shaking as he finally stilled, a breathy laugh falling from his lips, their eyes meeting as he near fell on top of Liam, teeth clacking as they kissed.
Yours faithfully, friend.
"I wrote you a letter once," Liam admitted, drawing his fingertips light over Harry's spine. He hadn't stopped touching him, was the thing. If he did, Harry could disappear, and Liam wasn't ready for that. A week of staying in Harry's home, cocooned in four walls and relearning each other wasn't enough. Not nearly.
Life wasn’t going to come crashing in anytime soon. Liam had no album to make, no concert to perform, no country to fly out to. He was booked to work on The Voice but that wasn’t for a few months and Harry’d had a few clients he’d left to go see but nothing in court for another week. It was nice. Just being. Being together.
Harry turned his head so one green eye was showing, the rest of his face still smashed into the pillow. "A letter?"
"Yeah," Liam said, cheeks feeling flushed. "Didn't send it. Burnt it actually. My therapist thought it would be a good idea to get all my feelings out."
"Therapist . . . ." Harry turned over fully now, shuffling up the bed so his shoulder was pressed up against Liam's, eyes focused on Liam, who had to swallow hard. He wasn't used to having Harry's attention like this. It'd been a long while.
"Everyone has one of those, Harry. You know what it's like in California. Nearly as regular as having a favourite juice bar." Liam didn’t tell Harry about how broken up he'd been by their split. How he'd punched out a few paps when they toured Europe later that year. How he'd walked out of half a dozen interviews and refused to go on stage one night because he was just so angry about it all. Angry that Harry had left the way he had. Angry that he wasn't enough for Harry in the end. That he hadn’t fought harder for what they’d had. That he didn't even bother. It was either therapy or group anger management, Simon demanded, and Dr Winston was proficient in both of those so it all worked out in the end.
"Oh. Okay." Harry went quiet, eyes downcast, dark lashes hiding green eyes that Liam couldn't forget. Wouldn't.
He curled a finger under Harry's chin, tilting his head up. "I'm good. I'm in a good place and I think you're in a good place. I don't think we've ever been on an even footing like this, Harry. I mean, we could . . . we were never friends first, and maybe we can be that."
Harry laughed, a sound Liam had missed on and off over the years. A hint of a smirk played over his rosy, kiss-bruised lips, his fingertips scratching lightly through the hairs on Liam's chest. It felt so good to have Harry back in his arms like this. So right.
"Might be a bit late to just be friends, Liam. I don't know about you, but I'm naked under these sheets."
Liam snorted. "I'm just saying it could be good for us. If we, like, move forward. Take things slow – slower – maybe. Like, if we talked more. We never said things when we should have."
The thing was, Liam was hopeful. For the first time in a long time, he was hopeful that they could rekindle something, that what they'd had could be what they could have again, but better.
"I know. I kind of let your world take over mine." Harry's tone turned serious, the light and laughter that had been there before gone now as he focused his green eyes on Liam's. Spoke from the heart. "I forgot who I was and who I wanted to be, and I blamed you for it so much. I never took responsibility for my own actions. I should have talked to you better, not just let it all fester until all I could think about was getting out."
Liam swallowed hard. Even now, after all they'd said, all that had been hashed out this week, it was still a bitter pill to swallow. How much they'd loved each other. How easily they'd let it all fall apart.
"We can try harder. Do it right. I won't take you for granted. I'll put you – put us – first."
Harry nodded, pushing at Liam's chest until his back hit the bed. He was all smiles as he threw his leg over Liam's waist to settle above him. Harry leaned forward, cupping Liam's cheeks with both hands, green green eyes focused on Liam's own. "We'll be great. This time."