six | (naked) is a coconut milk brand, you dirty bastard

I wake up feeling sensational kisses running down my spine. I whimper almost instantly, barely finding the words to respond to the soft touches.

"Morning."

"Thanks for the greeting kisses--what are you doing?!"

His hand is dipping into my shorts, pulling down along with my boxers to reveal my bare ass.

"What--Harry!"

"Shh, just let me do this," I hear him for a second until he's dipping a finger into my hole, "Your ass will feel better after last night."

Not expecting any type of morning sex, I gasp at the ripple of pleasure that runs through my body.

"Ahhhh shit," I moan quietly, grinding down on the lone finger.

"This could be our thing you know," he says, and I know he's smirking below me.

"What, morning sex?"

"Yeah."

"Oh god no," I groan, clutching his hair as he slips in another finger, "if anything, it will not be that."

He groans and I then feel his tongue licking a stripe against me. I gasp, pulling him closer and squeezing my eyes shut.

"Mmm," his voice is barely even audible as I switch one of my hands to my throbbing length, stroking quickly.

"Riled up already?" He asks cheekily and I whine, pushing my ass out to be closer to his mouth that I so desperately need. He nods with that stupid ass smirk before going back under.

The cheeky motherfucker makes me come undone in under twenty minutes.

-

Harry and I sit quietly on the mattress we just covered with new clean linen, simply admiring each other as the sunlight beats into the bedroom in stripes. They reflect off of his face and the shades of dark and light on his body strike me in a good way.

"Your ass doesn't hurt right?"

Harry interrupts my admirable thought with his slightly dirty one. I hate to admit, but Harry's ploy to finger my asshole this morning was actually for the better. My bum doesn't hurt at all, and I can sit anywhere without feeling the pain.

"No..." I mumble in defeat and he grins.

"Victory."

"Whatever. Hey, what movies do you have?"

"Another day in?" Harry asks, relaxing by me as we lay in his bed, "You've barely seen any of Spain you know."

"I don't want to anymore," I say, "I can come back another time with Zayn. I want to spend my time with you."

"Aw," he cooes, kissing my cheek, "if you say so then; what movie would you like to watch?"

"What movies do you have?"

"You name it, I have it." Harry answers honestly, "I say we look through and watch them tonight, deal?"

"Deal," I reply, getting out of bed, "now, I kind of need to shower so, if you'll excuse me."

"Am I allowed to shower with you now?"

"I--what makes you think you can?"

"We had sex Li! I've already seen you naked, can I please shower with you?"

"Ugh, fine," I mutter, ripping my shirt off and walking to the bathroom. I never put my shorts back on after Harry did all that. I hear him cheer as he speeds after me. The sound of his pants hitting the floor and the door shutting behind him startle me as I turn on the water.

As least his hot water is actually hot.

"Why are you so insecure?" He asks me when I sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for the water to fill up. I bite my lip, unsure of how to answer. It's not a matter of me being insecure, in my opinion at least. It's just that me showing my body off isn't something I do much.

"You've only seen my body so many times," I mumble sheepishly, "it's like, I dunno, it's still there. That self consciousness being around you."

"Why me?"

"You're perfect."

"Hey," he whispers, turning off the shower and turning on the pipe below, "don't say that about me. And I want a bath before I shower."

"What?" I groan, "for real?"

"To which statement?"

"Both!" I exclaim, "You are perfect you--you can do anything, be anything, hell, you can fucking roll out of bed and leave the house with bed head and drool all over you and still look better than me; on a good day. And I wanted to shower; just shower."

"Well boo hoo," he mocks me, "it's my house."

"It's my house," I mock him and he turns calmly to me.

"And another thing; you have qualities that make you beautiful Liam. Don't belittle yourself in my presence."

"Thanks mom," I roll my eyes but he grips my shoulders, looking at me with those god damn doe eyes I'm seriously beginning to hate. He could literally ask me to kill someone, look at me with that... look, and I would do it.

"Please," he says, "there's tons of ways you're beautiful Liam."

"Oh hush," I mumble, stopping the water and covering myself as I step into the water. It's really hot but I wince and deal with it, because I really want to see my privates go invisible under water.

"I wish you would believe me," he says, slipping in and sitting across from me, "No matter how long it's been since we've met, you're real beautiful Liam."

"Why can't I be handsome?" I ask with a smirk and he bites his lip, taking my hand and raising it from below the water.

"Because you're my pretty prince, and you're the only pretty prince I know."

"That's not an answer, dummy."

"It's one for me."

He kisses the top of my hand and suddenly that royal feeling that comes with being Harry's prince kicks in, exploding in my heart as I lean back against the tiled wall.

-

"What do you want for dinner Mr. Payne?" Harry says in a deep teasing voice and I roll my eyes.

I sit at the island counter, drawing little patterns on the counter as Harry stands across from me, a walkie talkie in his hand. It's hilarious; that's what he uses to communicate with his workers instead of his actual phone. See (he explained it to me), his house is so big that the workers have living quarters as well. They all get along quite well, and he uses walkie talkies because they remind him of all the detective shows he used to watch when he was younger. It's a cute little memento that he brought up along with him into adulthood.

"I dunno," I shrug, "a pizza sounds damn good, to be honest."

"You shrug a lot," Harry points out, wagging a finger at me as he dispatches to his walkie talkie crew.

"You do too," I taunt him, and he sticks his tongue out at me. Sometimes I swear Harry is a little kid inside of a grown man's body.

His phone rings out of nowhere and he jumps, seemingly startled by it.

"You good?" I ask, chuckling. He gives me an uneasy smile before responding,

"Yeah, it's just that I wasn't expecting work to be calling..." he says, staring at the screen, "Excuse me a minute Liam."

"Okay..." I say, "don't be too..."

He's rushing out the back door before I can even finish my sentence.

"Long?"

And then I'm alone, sitting in the large kitchen, waiting for something to happen. I keep my eyes trained on my hands, wondering what that call could be about. Harry was extremely tense when leaving the room. What if I were to...coincidentally, walk by the fridge and open the window and accidentally eavesdrop on his conversation?

No harm done, right?

I commence with my plan, opening the window and sticking my hand into the fridge. Luckily, Harry is standing right below me as he speaks on the phone.

"Look," he says quietly, "now really isn't the time, I'm on--"

He stops speaking to listen and I internally groan, wanting to hear more details.

"Where?"

He listens again and takes his phone from the speaker, tapping away in his notes with shaky fingers. What could be going on that has him in such a hurry?

"I thought this wouldn't be happening."

"Well you should expect surprises with this job Mr. Styles," the other man says on the phone. Harry must have had it on speaker so he could write whatever he was writing. Maybe an address?

"I'll be there soon," he says, "bye."

I quickly run from the fridge, shutting it and rubbing my cold hand. I sit down as soon as he walks in, a slightly frustrated look on his face.

"Liam," he sighs, picking up his jacket and walking through the main foyer, "I have to go."

"Have to go?" I ask as if I hadn't heard the conversation before, "Where?"

"Work related emergency," he says, pressing one of the many buttons that are scattered all over his house, "I'll have someone up here to order the pizza and stuff for when I come back. His name is Reynold, he's great, and he'll keep you company while I'm gone."

"But--"

"But what?" Harry looks at me desperately and I frown, biting my lip.

"But I... Harry are you gonna be back? What is this work emergency? Can I come with you--"

"Nope," he answers almost immediately, "you're not allowed to come."

"What?! Harry I--"

"Hey," he says, leaning over to peck my lips softly, "I'll be back. I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Okay," I say before he disappears behind the front door.

-

"Reynold?" I murmur quietly, and the slightly older butler looks at me. Reynold is the only person I've been talking to for the past three hours in Harry's absence. I learned a little bit about him and his life, but as fun as that was, I want Harry to come back right now.

"Yes?"

"Do you understand Harry's?" I ask, curious if anyone else here knows anything about him; maybe more than I do, "Does anyone?"

"See Mr. Payne," he sighs, resting his elbows on the counter, "no matter how long you work with him, or how long you know him, you'll never truly figure them out. You see, all of us have been working with him or known him for a certain period of time."

"Like who?"

"Like Keith, who is downstairs right now, has known him since he was sixteen."

"No way," I whisper, "that's...that's a long time."

"Yeah, but it hasn't changed a thing." He explains, "We're all equally clueless about Harry."

"How do you suppose you'll find out?" I ask.

"Easy," he says, "we don't."

I nod, letting the thought digest as I lean back on the back of the seat. It seems to be a pattern now; no one knows anything about Harry except for the basics. Name, age, physical, on the surface information. No one has dared to dig deeper, and I'm beginning to wonder why.

The alarm on the front door rings and for some reason, I know it's Harry coming in and not an intruder.

"I'm ba--"

I cut him off, engulfing him in a tight hug and taking him back in shock. Harry's chuckle echoes in the hall as he hugs me back and kisses my forehead.

"How was it?" I ask, being extra nosy. He shrugs as he walks around to the coffee table, dropping one of his bags.

"It was nothing," he replies, "timeshares, stuff that isn't in your line of work."

"Alright," I shrug it off, now curious about what's in the bag, "what did you bring back?"

"Coconut milk," he smirks, "Naked."

"What?!" I say, horrified.

"No! Not that kind of naked!" He groans, "The brand! You silly monkey."

"Oh god," I whine, "You're calling me that now?"

"I'll call you whatever I want," he chuckles, pinching me as I lean into him. It's hard to believe that someone as seemingly perfect as him could have so many questions following him around in a circle. 

not that long this time. meh, sorry.