One Direction One Shots 2

LAX (Harry)

I was already anxious when I heard him walk in the door. Just like I was every time he came to visit. Would this be the time he got caught? Would this be the time we ended up busted and put out for the world to see? I wasn’t ready and I knew he wasn’t either but the frequent visits to LA were getting questioned. No one understood why he was here. No one but the select few we allowed to know.

I rushed around the corner when I heard the heavy drop of his leather shoulder bag and skid to a stop at the sight of him. Emptying his full hands on the front table and sliding his black Ray Bans off his nose. I could see the intricate detail of the very tips of his swallows that he’d tattooed on his chest. His newly shorn hair pushed back and a beige fedora sat atop it. His usual black skinny jeans and worn in brown boots paired with a white tank and loose fitted faded black henley. A navy blue jacket over it and a new accessory on his right pointer finger.

He looked different than the last time I saw him which had only been three weeks earlier. He looked like a man but more than that he looked like someone. The kind of person you turn your head to see when he walks in the door even if you have no idea who he is. He looked cooly thrown together. Magnetic. Pure English. 

“Fuck, baby,” I groaned, letting my eyes trail over him. He didn’t look like his job. He looked much cooler. Mysterious even. Like someone you’d find with a beat up second hand guitar, strumming in the corner of a smokey basement pub, humming the melody to a song he was writing in his head. Something genius that the world would never hear. 

“Hey you,” he greeted me. Calm and collected. His voice rough but perfect. 

“Were you followed?” I asked, even though my eyes were fixed on the wing tips of the birds peeking out from the low scoop of his shirts. 

“Don’t think so. Paps at the airport but no cars,” he explained and I bit into my bottom lip and nodded.

“God Damn it, Harry. You love making sure I don’t even let you through my front door don’t you baby?” I groaned, still too taken by the look of him. He smirked and his boot made a soft noise against my wood floors as he stepped towards me and allowed me to wrap around him. Lifting me off the floor effortlessly and gripping my thighs as I circled my legs around his waist and pushed my hands through his hair, knocking the fedora to the ground. 

“Missed me, love?” He asked as my lips hovered over his and I gripped tight to the back of his hair. 

“So much,” I whispered, watching his tongue slip slow passed his lips to tease mine, making me whimper as he pressed my back against the wall and pinned between it and the hard surface of his body. 

I felt the cool metal of his ring against my neck as he cupped my skin and tilted my head back, dragging his hot open mouth over my skin and closing it under my ear. 

“God, I need you to fuck me,” I whispered desperately into his ear as I gripped the lapels of his jacket and pressed myself tighter against him.

Turning me swiftly he lay me back on the front table and whipped his jacket from his arms. Too impatient, I reached between my legs and grabbed the buckle of his belt, pulling him tighter to me and undoing it fast as his wide palms spread across my thighs and up the sides of my shorts before tugging them down my legs.

My back arched and I bit my lip even though he wasn’t doing anything yet. The anticipation of it, the urgency of it was driving me insane.

“Jesus Christ, I can already feel you,” I moaned, sitting up and dipping my hand down the front of his jeans to feel the hard swell of him. He pushed his hands through my hair and cupped my face, his eyes closing briefly over the contact. “Are you sure you’re not tired?” I checked, because he had just come off a long flight and I didn’t want to push him if he needed rest.