Fixated


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17. 16

 

~Brigh’s POV~

 

           Things between Harry and I were…awkward, to say the least. Sitting on the couch, watching a random movie, we didn’t know whether to sit close to each other or keep a healthy distance away. We ended up choosing the latter. With a pillow clutched to my chest to give my hands something to do, I couldn’t help but sneak little petty glances at the man beside me on the other side of the couch. The living room was dark and the only source of light was from the windows, but the sun was setting quickly as the time approached eight in the evening.

 

           Michael had said something about going to talk to Kate and fucked off, so I haven’t seen him since this morning. I wasn’t sure if being alone with Harry was a bad thing or a good thing.

 

           By the end of the second movie we picked, I could see Harry getting a bit restless and shifty, sending looks and glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The silence was so loud, it irked me. And I guess Harry thought the same thing.

 

           “Brigh?” He whispered. I kept my attention on the new movie I just put in, Kingsmen, contemplating about answering or not.

 

           “Brigh,” he whispered again. This time he scooted closer, just an inch. I tensed up and finally turned to look at him.

 

           “Hm?” I suddenly wished the couch were bigger because he was right there and there wasn’t enough room for me left to move over without sitting on the floor. The lowering sunlight enhanced his facial structure, forming shadows where his cheeks were hollowed, under his jaw, his collarbones. Dammit.

 

           “I think we should talk…about things,” he said quietly, locking his eyes that were still the same shade of green they have always been. I couldn’t look away.

 

           “Talk? What is there to talk about? You explained everything,” I whispered back, searching his face, like if I found some type of error in his features then this wasn’t real. But everything was exactly the way I last saw it. Maybe his cheekbones were a bit sharper and his eyes a bit…sunken it, but everything was the same. My heart ached.

 

           “Just. Just talk to me, please.” He murmured so softly I barely caught it. I ripped my eyes from his and busied myself by checking the time.

 

           “Are you hungry? I’m starving,” I said, changing the subject and tossing the pillow to the side, standing up. Maybe things shouldn’t be so awkward between us. I mean, we have slept in the same bed for the two days, but we haven’t actually done anything other than sleep ever since he showed up at the front door.

 

           “Yeah. Do you need any help?” Harry asked, gazing up at me through the dark. My eyes flitted to his for a split second before lowering to the floor.

 

           No. “Sure,” I nodded slightly and walked into the kitchen. I rummaged through the cabinets for anything other than canned soup. Harry opened the fridge, one hand on the door and the other stretched out in front of him as he examined the contents. I eyed the exposed sliver of skin on his back since his shirt had ridden up a little. I licked my lips and fought the urge to slam my head repeatedly through the window, turning around instead.

 

           “What about breakfast for dinner?” I suggested, turning back around to face him.

 

           “What do you have?” Harry asked, shutting the fridge gently. I realized that there were cinnamon rolls in the fridge, but didn’t want to get close to Harry just yet. It was still a bit too much.

 

           “Um, there are cinnamon rolls in the fridge if you want to get them out?” I asked, tapping my fingers nervously against my thigh. Harry opened the fridge and leaned down to get the cinnamon rolls. I involuntarily watched the way his shoulders stretched the back of his shirt snuggly. Oh dear god.

 

           “Here,” Harry muttered, tossing the package to me which I barely caught just in time before it smacked me in the face. “Sorry.” Harry grinned, laughing. I couldn’t help a small quirk of my lips before turning around and getting out a pan.

 

           “Mind if I go take a shower?” Harry asked suddenly.

 

           “Yeah, that’s fine. These should take a while so,” I didn’t turn around, but listened to the sound of his footsteps thud up the stairs and the soft sound of water running through the pipes. I dropped my cinnamon rolls and hit my head on the cupboard in front of me, rubbing my temples harshly. I was bombarded with memories of the time we were in Tennessee in that cabin. That time in the hot tub, the games we would play in the kitchen to see who could throw the most cheerios into the other person’s mouth. Harry had always won.

 

           I thought about the night we spent together, wrapped around each other like intertwining branches, and so consumed in each other everything else in the world disappeared. The only thing that had mattered was Harry.

 

           Maybe he still matters.

 

           I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and placed the rolls in the pan, getting ready to place them in the oven when I realized I forgot to preheat it. I leaned against the counter heavily as I waited, shutting my eyes just to rest.

           I felt hands on my waist before I heard his voice.

 

           “You okay?” My eyes flew open, focusing on Harry’s clean, fresh face. His hands were still firmly placed on my waist and I was immediately reminded of how those hands felt on my bare skin, electric and simply amazing.

 

           “No,” I whispered, tired of lying to myself. To others. Harry’s wet hair was brushed away from his face, eyes darkening in concern, lips pouting. I felt a sudden urge to bite them, remembering how red they got when they were swollen.

 

           Harry pressed closer, almost like he didn’t know he was doing it until the last moment. But he didn’t back away.

 

           “What can I do?” Harry was so close now, our chest were inches away from touching. My breath caught as his fingers tightened their hold, pressing me to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder, watching as I ran my fingers lightly down his arm.

 

           “I keep thinking about that cabin in Tennessee,” I murmured, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch. I felt Harry’s hand brush against my cheek, his thumb tracing my bottom lip so gently I wanted to cry.

 

           “I don’t want things to be awkward between us, Harry, but it’s like, so overwhelming now. With you suddenly here and everything is such a fucking mess-”

 

           Suddenly, Harry cut me off by bringing our lips together, and I closed my eyes and let Harry stop my babbling. I responded quickly, bringing both hands up to cradle his face, thumbing at his slight stubble as he deepened the kiss. It started out slow and hesitant, but it turned dirty real quick.

 

           One of Harry’s hand slid down the curve of my bum and the other comes up to press in against the small of my back, and I made a desperate little noise at how nice Harry’s big hands felt splayed over my t-shirt, pulling our torsos together. I tilted my head to the side and went up on my tiptoes just the tiniest bit, making the angle of the kiss that much better and pulling a groan from Harry’s throat.

 

           I pulled away from the kiss. Harry whined and chased after my lips, eyes still closed.

 

           “I want to do something,” I murmured quietly. Harry opened his eyes slowly.

 

           “What?” He breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

 

           “Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered into his ear. I wanted to do something for Harry. Something I have never done before. After all, I did just get him back, right? And maybe I could put those tricks I learned from Michael’s porn magazines to good use.

           It only takes Harry a second to follow up. “Oh, yeah. Okay.” I took Harry’s hand and lead him upstairs quickly, honestly contemplating whether or not to go to my room or stop right here and drop on my knees in front of him.

 

           Harry immediately pushed me against the door once we had secured ourselves in my room, kissing me hungrily and threading his fingers through my hair. I reached a hand out to make sure the door was shut, then I kissed Harry back just as fiercely, grabbing at Harry’s cute, firm bum with both hands and squeezing teasingly.

 

           There was something different about Harry. Something darker maybe…more confident. He is much more forceful than I remembered and I fucking loved it. We fit together so nicely and it felt so natural despite all this time. It made my head spin.

 

           “I missed you – so – fucking – much –” I gasped out between kisses. Harry pulled away, grinning brightly.

 

           “I miss you so much, Brigh. You have no idea,”

 

           “Try me,” I breathed, sucking a light bruise into his neck. I brought my hands to his chest and turned us around so he was the one crowded up against the door.

 

           “I wanna blow you. S’that okay?”

 

           Harry actually whimpered            and leaned back against the door for support as I dropped to my knees.

 

           “A-Are you sure?” He asked quietly. I nodded my head almost too eagerly and busied myself with getting rid of Harry’s trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his pants, letting his thick, half-hard dick bob free.

 

           “Fuck,” I whined, helpless against the desperation to get my mouth of him. Harry’s dick is warm, filling my mouth deliciously, and as I sucked and tongued at it to get it harder it released a drop or two of salty precum, making me hum happily. I glanced up at Harry through half-lidded eyes and was pleased to find Harry already staring down at me, fisting a hand in his own hair in order to more pressure me.

 

           I placed both hands on his strong thighs, pulling off just to press a kiss to his shaft, down to the tip, and finally took him in my mouth. Harry let out a little noise from the back of his throat and I could tell he was resisting every urge he had to not fuck into my mouth. Hey, there was a first time for everything so why not? I pulled off of Harry with a wet pop, noting happily that he was almost fully hard, his tip drooling with precum as I worked him with my hand.

 

           “Want you to fuck my mouth” I said softly, letting the nickname slip out, my tongue curling dirtily around the words as Harry shuddered.

 

           “Who are you?” He whispered to himself, but I grinned smugly. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he insisted, eyes sliding closed in bliss as I kept stroking him firmly.

 

           “You won’t,” I told him. “Please.”

 

           Harry scrubbed a hand over his eyes and moaned as I sucked just the tip of his dick. I ran my tongue mercilessly at his slit untill Harry’s hands flew to my hair to push me down further.

 

           “Tell me if I hurt you,” Harry stammered. I smirked and nodded with his cock still in my mouth, making Harry swear and thrust his hips lightly.

 

           I held as still as I could, waiting for Harry to take the initiative, and he finally did, gripping my face gently and started to fuck in and out of my mouth in shallow strokes. He was so, so hard now, his cock hot and pulsing on my tongue, and I wanted nothing more than to move my head forward until I gagged, but I still didn’t know my limits.

 

           Eventually, once Harry seemed to realize that I really, really liked it, he started thrusting more confidently. I could see the bottoms of his abs peeking out of his shirttails start to clench every time he moved his hips forward. Fuck. The sight was so fucking hot that I wanted more. I was desperate to give, give Harry anything he asked for and more.

 

           I looked up again and realized Harry had started to watch me. I could only imagine what he saw: the hot slide of his cock in between my lips as he fucked my mouth. I leaned forward a bit, causing Harry’s cock to slide a little bit down my throat on his next thrust, making me gag slightly. Harry’s rhythm faltered as my throat squeezed around him.

 

           “Oh – shit, are you – ” Harry stuttered, trying to draw back, but I didn’t let him. I moaned around Harry’s cock, trying to reassure him. Harry stroked a shaking hand over my cheek before started to continue his movements.

 

           I tried to relax my throat as much as possible, and this time when Harry picked up the pace of his thrusts, he started to slide down my throat a bit, and my eyes started to water but I kept my hands clutching at his strong thighs, digging my nails in encouragingly.

 

           Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, teeth sunk into his lower lip in concentration, but every so often a loud moan escaped his lips that made me go a little deeper, suck a little harder.

           When he looked down again, he moaned. “Holy shit. Oh god, oh –”

 

           I groaned as Harry blurted more precum onto my tongue. It was salty, slick in an entirely different way than my own saliva. I pushed myself further onto Harry’s cock, taking him as far as I possible could.

 

           Then Harry’s shouting and gripping at my hair, hips rocking shallowly as he came. I swallowed as much of it as I could, letting a little leak out around the corners of my mouth. I sucked Harry through his orgasm until he sighed breathily and pulled his spent cock from between my lips.

 

           “Fuck,” Harry whispered, head leaning against the door, looking dazed.  I stood up from my kneeling position, licking my lips and pressing into Harry’s personal space.

 

           “I missed you,” I said quietly, sounding a bit whiny and needy, but I didn’t care. Harry was still breathless as he surged forward, attaching his red bitten lips to mine. I smirked through the kiss, feeling honestly proud and accomplished.

 

           “You’re fucking gorgeous,” Harry groaned, his forehead resting against mine. He pushed himself off the wall and led me to my bed, pushing me down to the mattress and crawling in between my legs.

 

“At least let me return the favour.” Harry grinned and started to undo the buttons on my jeans.

 

 

 

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