Slight Pressure

7. Frightened Turtle, Smitten Kitten

written by alessandra

Harry woke up in the morning under a circus tent, or at least that's what it felt like. And the main act occupying the Big Top was his shameless erection. Despite the clownish sight of his sheets hovering inches above his body, he found none of it funny. He really needed to get his shit under control. It was one thing to have feelings for someone, want to kiss them, touch them, rescue them from asshole ex-boyfriends, make them call his name...

Harry stopped himself. Back up there, Styles. Think outside the tent. He sighed, rubbed his eyes, and tried to think of basic things, like baseball. But then he remembered he knew literally nothing about the sport and his mind veered right back to his throbbing, hot-blooded core.

Okay, how about bread? That's the most basic thing on the planet. Harry used to work in a bakery as a teenager, so he knew all about bread. Boring, plain, white bread. It was a distraction topic that had served him well many times before. Warm, rising bread, hot from the oven. So hot. So soft to the touch, like a cheek. Riley's cheeks, smiling coyly from the passenger side of his car. Riley's perfectly round ass cheek on his passenger seat, sitting there in her cut offs from the bar, the bottom of them peeking out from below the frayed denim hemline.

He looked down and his Big Top twitched excitedly. Jesus. This was harder than he thought.

Harry got up and stretched. He jumped up and down. He twisted his body from side to side. Nothing worked. Why couldn't he be like Louis and just bring anybody home for a night of headboard-smashing sex? Was he too...what? Sensitive? Particular? Peculiar? Not that he wanted that kind of thing exactly but, hell, between his long shifts at the clinic and finishing up his studies, his sex life had completely fallen off the map. It hadn't been so bad when he was caught up in all his work, but ever since Riley marched her beautiful self into exam room two, he'd been painfully aware of his sexual drought.

Thankfully, the apartment was completely silent when he peeked out his bedroom door into the hallway. He really didn't want to alarm Riley with an aggressive display of morning wood, and he knew trying to hide was still out of the question. Harry figured Riley must still be asleep. He knew for certain that Louis was asleep, after the night he'd had, so Harry bounded down the hallway and into the bathroom for an ice cold shower. Maybe treating his stubborn body into submission with a proper wank, he could function like a normal human again. And then treat Riley to a proper breakfast.

Harry swung the bathroom door closed behind him and frowned. He'd forgotten that Louis ripped the shower curtain off the rod the other day for some unholy reason. Harry didn't really care to know the details. But he hadn't replaced it yet so they'd been making due by aiming the nozzle at the shower wall to avoid too much spray on the floor. Normally Harry would just go and get them a new one but he was holding his ground in an attempt to teach his roommate - and medical superior - a lesson in adulthood for once in his life.

He jumped into the tub and let the water wash over him. He hyperventilated slightly while his body adjusted to the cool temperature, and thankfully, the desired effect started to kick in immediately.

*

Riley was sitting in the kitchen when she heard the bathroom door shut and the shower turn on. She'd gotten up a while ago, dehydrated as all hell, with a shattering headache threatening to split her skull in two. Harry had kindly wrapped her up in a knit blanket overnight and set out a glass of water beside the couch, but she needed something stronger. He'd also left a garbage bin on the floor just in case, which she thankfully didn't need to use. Yet.