Breaking news: Hard partying rock star Harry Styles continues his downward spiral. Can new tour manager Niall Horan help him save his career? My sources inside Harry's camp think he's beyond help. Follow me for all the latest news on this tragic...
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Niall slowly swims into consciousness, wondering why the sun is coming from the wrong side of the room. It usually hits his face on the left. He wiggles the fingers on his right hand and touches his face. Slowly dragging it over his torso, he reaches his dick and grips, giving it a couple strokes for good measure. Nope, everything's where it should be. Rolling over to his left side he feels something warm and hard in bed with him.
"Oi, quit pokin me." The voice laughing above sounds familiar.
"Harry?" he croaks. "Time's it?"
"Half two. Derby's about to start. That's your team, right?"
Niall rests his head on Harry's leg and wraps an arm around him, kissing his tummy. "Where are we?" He doesn't recognize the room, assumes it's some hotel Harry booked because no way would Emmy's budget afford this much luxury.
"My flat, you don't remember coming here last night?"
Niall pushes himself up, leaning against Harry's shoulder. "Oh," the haze in his head begins to clear. "Yeah."
Harry laughs and places his tablet on the night table then straddles Niall's legs. "C'mere," he places his hand on Niall's cheek and pulls him into a kiss. "You said you were knackered." He smiles against Niall's lips, "but you must've really been out of it."
"Could sleep for a week," Niall mumbles into Harry's lips, kissing him once more before pulling away. "Need a wee, where's the toilet in this palace?"
"Through there," Niall hears Harry laughing again as he scoots out of bed and hustles to the toilet. His bladder is so full, the feeling of relief that washes throughout his body is borderline orgasmic. When he finishes he washes his hands and looks through the drawers to find some toothpaste, squeezing a bit onto his finger and rubbing it over his teeth and tongue. This'll have to do for now until he finds his bag. He doesn't remember getting it out of the van and hopes it didn't go back to LA with the band.
Looking around the room he takes in his surroundings and spots what has to be the biggest shower he's ever seen, as big as the entire bathroom at his house and damn a shower would feel good right now. He slowly slides the door open and twists a knob which sets water running. Waiting til it warms, he finds a stack of towels on a shelf and grabs two, placing them on the vanity.
Sticking his head out of the door he looks for Harry but doesn't see him.
"Harry!"
"Yep?" The voice comes from a doorway to his left.
"Okay if I take a shower?"
Harry appears, dressed and shoving a phone and wallet in his pocket. "Course, gonna go get some food. Back in a few," he tells him, pecking Niall on the lips. "Make yourself at home. Your bag's over there or help yourself to whatever's in m'closet."
