I Want It Bad - Narry

Chapter Sixteen

A/N: So at the beginning it’s kind of smut-ish, I guess? It’s not too detailed, but yeah, if you don’t like don’t read, blah, blah, blah, you guys know the drill. Enjoy :)

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Harry lets out a quiet groan as the sunlight peeking through the curtains hits his face. He cracks one eye open and sits up on his elbows, only being able to see a blurred scene of Niall’s dorm room. From what he can make out, he doesn’t see Zayn anywhere, meaning he still didn’t come back to the dorm from wherever he went in the first place – probably to Louis’ dorm. He flops back down on Niall’s bed and slings an arm over to shield his face from the sun, too exhausted to stand and close the blinds, which would be a much easier solution but again, he’s exhausted. He thinks back to last night, face heating up in embarrassment when he remembers the meltdown he had in Niall’s car. He didn’t know why he said all that he did; he was just so overwhelmed with emotions that he just broke. And then he remembers being woke up by Niall not long after finally falling asleep when they got back from the ER, him whining about how he wanted to fuck Harry, which, in a sense, was Niall’s way of apologizing. Unlike the other times they had sex though, Niall was overly gentle, afraid of sending Harry back into another Asthma attack. It was a nice change, Harry thinks, but nothing will be better than when Niall wrecks him. Harry likes to be able to please Niall, likes the feeling of just having Niall be dominant over him and use him.

He starts to feel himself slip back into slumber, but then the door opens and more sunlight floods into the room like a tidal wave, to much of Harry’s dismay. He can’t stop the little whimper he lets out as he tries to hide underneath the blankets that are in disarray across the bed, and then he feels a pair of hands grab his sides.

“Baby,” Niall says in a singsong tone, “don’t hide from me. Wanna see that pretty face of yours.”

Harry rolls his eyes at how disgustingly cheesy Niall is being, but he can’t fight back the blush that creeps onto his face. He makes this pitiful grunting noise but Niall’s not having it, so he drags Harry out from underneath the covers and props him over his shoulder. Harry squeaks in surprise because Niall should not be able to pick up someone nearly the same size as him so easily. Niall only chuckles in response and slaps his hand over Harry’s bum. (Rather harshly, Harry notes to himself, but doesn’t say anything.)

Niall walks into the kitchen area and places Harry on the small portable Kitchen Island his mother had gave him before sending him off to college. (Well, more like forcing into college, but we won’t get into that right now.)

“Niall,” Harry mumbles in a sleepy voice as he puts his glasses on, “I don’t think this is made to hold a person.”

Niall scoffs and waves his hand dismissively, “It’ll be fine. If ya fall, I’ll kiss ya better.” He winks, and Harry smiles even though he tries not to.

Niall bends down, searching through his mini-fridge for some milk. He pouts when he finds an empty small jug that should be filled with milk, the plan for hot cocoa clearly out of the question now. Instead he brings out a box that holds two cupcakes inside, holding it out towards Harry.

“Cupcakes for breakfast?” Harry questions. “Why didn’t you get, like, doughnuts?”