Smut and fluff

My Naked Knees Aren't Nervous

By Zianourrylovesme

The boys were getting into solo formation when it happened.

Harry had taken front and center, facing the crowd and belting out his solo, totally confident,

then Liam had pantsed him.

In that moment, Harry withdrew completely, singing and laughing along while, inside, he fell apart at the seams.

Struggling against an erection, he said a few brief thank you sentences, trying not to let the tremor in his voice show.

"Thank you London!

We are One Direction and we love you!

We'll see you soon!

My naked knees

are nervous."

Nobody seemed to catch the hidden meaning, but it made Harry feel a bit more secure.

BDSM.

It was Harry's world now. As a sub, he thrived off of humiliation, spankings, being forced to beg, and looked down upon, it got him off better than anything.

Everything he believed he could stand, he tried, and on some special occurrences, he even allowed his limits to be...

Pushed.

Only Paul knew about this fetish, as he was the only one Harry trusted to take care of him while he was too sore from a good spanking, followed by a rough pounding, to walk right.

Paul was the only one Harry trusted enough to keep his secret, without judgement.

Paul was the only one Harry trusted enough to carry him to the car, settle him in carefully, and listen while Harry whimpered an excuse

(over the phone)

to Liam and the boys for being late.

Paul was the only one who Harry trusted to understand.

That's why, after the concert, when Harry walked off the stage, Paul already knew.

"Paul, I need-"

Paul held up the keys, snapping them in his fingers, the jingling louder than Harry would've liked, and said,"I gotta drop off the boys first."

Mouth dropping open, Harry huffed and crossed his arms, then stood impatiently next to Paul, not even bothering to change his clothes.

He wasn't sure he could be around the boys just yet.

Once everyone had filed out of the dressing rooms, laughing, hanging off of each other, clapping backs, giving and receiving piggy-back rides,

showing the usual One Direction affection,

Paul ushered them all in the car, gripping Harry's arm and looking in his eyes, silently promising to get Harry there as fast as possible.

See, Harry had this thing.

If he needed something, he needed it, and when he needed it, he really did try to hide it.

Truly, he did.

But he just couldn't.

Sitting on the edge of the seat, Harry looked similar to a caged animal, fidgeting and sending wide eyed glances towards the boys, who were beginning to wonder what was up.

They had seen Harry like this before, but only briefly, since Paul had dropped them off at their hotel not seconds after they'd noticed.

Tonight, though, they were stuck in traffic.