Most of the world had a crush on Harry Styles. Probably all of England. Keira just liked to think that she got a head start on everybody else.

She supposed she had an advantage being from the same village and all. She almost was ashamed at just how long it had taken her to really see him. When she looked back through year books and the like, well he was the most adorable little boy, and she did remember him being fun to listen to in his Elvis get up. Keira was fairly sure her first crush had been somebody silly like Gordo from Lizzie Macguire. And then there had been Tom.

She and Tom were something of an ineveitability. Their mothers had been best friends for life and they had grown up together. There was ample opportunity for kisses stolen and ice creams shared. So they had happened, and everybody had oowed and awwed. But it had happened for too long.

Keira wasn't sure how to break up with him when they all lived in the same small place, and he was eager to break up when they left. She mourned that, how ill used she was, that at home, she was a feather in his dumb newsboy cap, but away, she was a hinderance. Usually, growing up she was happy to be part of Keira and Tom. Not all the time, like when he scoffed at her love of books, or ignored her for days in favor of video games, or when he made eyes at his mates about her.

She wasn't ashamed they were having sex, she liked it fine, but she didn't like him bragging about it. Especially to Harry. He looked uncomfortable when Tom raised his stupid eyebrows when she had to bend down or something equally innocuous but somehow sensuous to 16 year old boys. Keira assumed is was because he was so sweet, Harry. He was the nicest boy in class, nicest smile. Even before the world agreed, she was sometimes sad that Harry wasn't raising his eyebrows at her, she couldn't imagine him being gross about her like Tom.

Perhaps she was never sadder to be part of Keira and Tom than when she and Harry were assigned to the 12 or so small boys and girls for football camps.

"You can't let him push you around." Was the first sentence she could make out when she came upon Harry talking to little Stevie. Keira knew she was talking about Liam. Liam was the biggest boy on the team, the most athletic. He got a lot of attention, and he liked it. Knew he was the best. Didn't want anybody to forget it. And he enjoyed Stevie's attention, didn't care if it was positive or negative.

The little girl sniffled loud, "my mum says it's cuz he likes me...." she trailed off.

Keira was livid. She hated that, and what message it taught. Her mum had griped at her dad about it when she was a little girl when somebody was mean to her. Come to think of it, it may have been Tom.

"What?" Harry was audibly irked. His voice a question mark, in red. "If he liked you, shouldn't he be nice to you and not kick your shins instead of the ball, or hit your chest when he's trying to 'knock' the ball down'?" She saw his fingers make the quotes, but his voice said enough. Harry's voice was really nice she noticed that day. He was really nice.

"That's what I think!" Stevie made big hands and Harry was nodding. "And why should I like him if he's mean to me anyway?"

"Stevie, I think you should ask yourself that question your whole life, ok?" Harry extended his hand and Stevie took it. "Deal?"

"Deal!" The little girl was sans snot now and Keira could see dimples in both of their cheeks.

"Now, lets go kick him in the shins, I mean win the ball from him!" He narrowed his eyes and they sparkled.

Stevie looked a little smitten, so was Keira.

But she was Tom's girlfriend. Yet, she always wore the Alien Harry complimented the one time, even though Tom liked the one he bought her.

She liked when he smelled her and his cheeks flushed a little. It made her feel taller, even taller than him. Her cheeks always felt full too. He made her laugh, she liked his laugh.

Sometimes he seemed to like hers too. But everybody liked Harry, the whole of the school, and the girls' he'd kissed, had, they talked about how sweet he was and how his breath was minty, and how his lips and tongue moved. But there were quite a few of them and though he was sweet, he wasn't faithful, well, not a one woman kinda boy.

And then he wasn't sweet Harry Styles from her home town, with the floppy hair and cute cheeks and killer smile. He was Harry fucking Styles from One Direction, with the killer curls, and big voice, and sexy swagger.

The jeans killed her. Genes too.

Tom has caught her one time, drooling over how Harry was growing up. Watching the Story of my Life video and rewinding his parts over and over. Thinking about his hands around a football teaching a throw in.

Thinking about his hands and how lanky he'd gotten. How Cut.

"What're you doing?" Tom sounded, well, pissed. But he sounded that way whenever they saw each other now. She interfered with his video game and drinking schedule when he was home. She wasn't sure why either of them were bothering. But he'd shown up on her doorstep the first day back, and begged, and well, they were Keira and Tom.

She quickly slammed her lap top closed. "Nothing, it's just wild! That's our Harry!" But so much more. Who could have guessed?

How could they miss it?

He was the one everybody watched she remembered, no matter the room, or the age. Little Stevie included. Keira too.

Tom didn't like that.

"It's just Harry, not sure what the fuss is about. Not even sure he can sing! He fucks up sometimes."

Well, that wasn't on. "Um, I think he can definitely sing, clearly." Keira gestured at the TV. Oh, he looked pissed.

"Well, then, you can go to this shifty party by yourself then, see if he'll sing to you!"

"Harry's home!?" Oh, wrong thing to say.

"Yeah, supposed to celebrate his stupid fucking birthday, not for months for fuck's sake!"

"We don't have to go." Keira wanted to go.

"You don't have to go, I do. He'll be upset if I don't make it. He's like a girl sometimes." She hated when he said shit like that. Then he changed tactics, and wrapped her up in his skinny arms. She liked he was taller than her, looked like a willow sapling. She only wished he had a little more muscle recently. Like when she started watching one direction videos. "And I'd rather stay here with you, all night," he nuzzled the spot behind her ear they favored, and she wanted to stay with him too, kind of. "But, let's go to the party. We can bask in that big head of hair of his, watch him flex his damn dimples like he's god's gi-"

"I thought you liked Harry! He's your mate!" She protested.

"Listened, he's a mate, and I'll always have his back publicly,  but between you and me, he's changed. I love that you haven't changed." He'd kissed her lips, just like she liked, and craved. "You taste just the same. Like my girl."

Keira knew she had melted and though some part of her felt like Tom was lying about Harry, she was with Tom, hadn't seen Harry in four years, pre stardom.

She's noticed that night, while Tom lavished attention on her like never before, that Harry seemed much the same. At least from her wide orbit around him.

Predictably, after the party, there was sex, the same semi satisfying dance she and Tom had done before, for years. He always got off, sometimes she got lucky. Then, the journey back to uni, and the break up.

She still watched One Direction videos when they were on.

It had been a shock, a pleasant jolt, to run into Harry, a very grown up, and familiar Harry at the bakery. Thinking back on it, maybe Tom was smarter than she gave him credit for and noticed. Noticed she was interested in Harry, a little smitten. He'd worked pretty hard to bad mouth him. And he'd payed her attention and stayed close too.

The shocking thing, after the bakery, and the mistletoe, was that He hadn't changed. He was still the boy she had taught footie with. Hung on the chair of the coach near. But he was better, a man.

A really lovely, accomplished, well heeled, world renowned man that she was totally smitten with.

And if his kiss was anything to go by, it was mutual. Her lips tingled when she thought about it, the way his face had gone from shock, the little 'o', to a quirk in the cute slices in his cheeks to a bit of a smirk. And then her eyes had fallen closed and she'd let other senses take over.

Touch and taste.

Keira'd been thinking about his lips since she got bold enough to walk up to him while holding the mistletoe above his head.

Well she had been thinking about his lips since she bought the mistletoe. Maybe since she was 19 or so, ok, 17. She'd been shopping with her mom and seen the little sprigs of green by the register and decided that if Harry wanted mistletoe, if they needed an excuse to do this, she'd make sure they had one.

She'd thrown it on the belt and her mom had given her a queer look to which she had shrugged. Why explain herself.

Keira had been prompted to explain herself on the way home from the party. She wasn't sure if everybody saw them kissing. But her mother certainly had.

It was probably because it had gone on for so long, the kiss.  Really more of a makeout.

But when she'd gotten to feel those lips on her own, well, her hands were up the back of his jacket and might have pulled his shirt free from his white pants if they'd had two more minutes. But somebody had cleared their throats.

She'd felt devastated. Partially that they hadn't done that ages ago. That she thought Tom could kiss.

Harry had looked wrecked as well. Her hands hadn't made it to his hair, a pity, but he was yanking it back and runnng his hands down his face moments later. God, he was so hot.

She'd been squirmy for the entire rest of the evening. It had been short, but when he'd hugged her goodbye and put his face in her neck to sniff her and pushed those pink edged pillows to her neck then her cheek so close to her mouth she could taste his gum, she knew she was a goner.

Basically, the minute they got in the car her mom said, "that why you bought the mistletoe then?" With a ridiculous grin.

She couldn't talk about it, so she shrugged.

It was all she had thought about the short drive home, while she changed and brushed her teeth, when she mourned the stronger mint that wasn't his taste in her mouth, and while she ran her thighs against themselves.

"It's your own bed, it's where you first masterbated. Get over yourself and do it." Keira said aloud after an hour of flopping on her twin bed. So, her hand slipped beneath her flannel bottoms and she could pretend she was surprised by the slip and slide she found in her knickers, but she wasn't. Her clit was sensitive, from the first brush of her middle finger. It took only the one finger, not to many twirls over her hood, and the thought of Harry doing this in his adolescent bed with her on his mind to finish the job.

But she still woke up thinking about the kiss.

She thought about it all through the week she was back in London, gave her Christmas present to herself, the fancy vibrator she figured a single girl
Deserved, a workout most nights over it.

She nearly texted him daily.

Was he in London?

Did he catch himself daydreaming about how the ridge of his tongue felt in her mouth? When it slid against her own, and caught the corner of her lips on the way out. Hers still tingled. Did his?

Could she send that text?

Would she?

No, was the answer.

But on the eve of New Year's Eve, her phone chimed and she was expecting it was Molly, with another guilt trip about Keira not wanting to third wheel with  her and Mace. 

Instead it was Harry. 

Her heart thrummed. Her lips parted on a gasp. It was a short text though, 'you home or in London?'

'Well, this feels like a trick question. I live in London, so, yes.' Be coy, make him text you again. Please text again.

'I hope that means you are in London. I am.'

Well what did she say to that?

'I'm home, in London.' Safe, ball back in his court.

'London's not home. But since we are both here, do you have plans tomorrow night?'

Now her heart was really beating. She should have plans, right? That would be cooler. She could have plans, but she hated new year's with all it's expectation. It was hard to have a good time when you were supposed to have the best time.

"Not really.' Aloof. So not her, she sucked at this text flirting, maybe why she hadn't really dated since Tom. Just the one boyforned of a sort her final term of university.

'Now you do! I'm having people round'

The next text was an address, in a neighborhood far enough away to be expensive. Shit! Fancy, what did she wear? What did she have?

'Dress code?' That was chill enough.

'You could come naked.....😈😈😈' he was better at this than her. Would he be naked?

'Will you be naked?'

'Unfortunately, no. Think my guests would be confused.'

Ok, so not the two of them. Naked. Her mind was whirring. What did she say?

'It's casual, just a bit of food, and games, lots of drinks with some friends. I'd like to see you. Wear whatever.'

That was such a boy thing to say. Wear whatever. Come to my posh house in the posh part of London, but wear jeans, but only if they look destructed perfectly. 

It took her a day to decide what to wear. Mostly because she had to leave to only be the 18 minutes late she was allowing. That was relaxed, right? Just a bit late, so she wasn't rude, but also not too eager?

It was just a little cotton dress. With some shimmery overlay to be festive. T shirt cut, so it was casual, but short. She had always liked her legs.

Keira was a little jittery on the tube, almost took a nip off the bottle some passengers were passing around.  Who even was she? It was just Harry, for fuck's sake, they had grown up together.

The house was pretty unassuming, but the address and the fancy cars in the drive told her she was a long way from home.

Her homegrown boy was internationally known, and lusted for. Keira was more than aware of it, almost left, but she'd rung the bell. Because she lusted for him.

"Keira!" He looked happy to see her, and a little red checked. His long long arms wrapped around her waist and this time she sniffed him, inhaled deep. He smelled like nice cologne, and his mint gum, and alcohol. He had started early.

"Am I late?" She bit her lip and pulled back to look at him, elsewise she was worried she was going to burrow in his smell and stay there. Or he'd catch her sniffing and she'd be totally embarrassed.

It may have been ok though, because he kept both hands around her waist and gripped her so she wouldn't get too far and smiled at her before he leaned in and kissed her, well, pecked her. She supposed on the cheek, but it was close enough to her mouth to resuscitate the tingling.

"Nah, you're not late. Nick just came over early with a bottle because had another party to get to. Come meet everybody!"

Keira assumed he would see her safely ensconced with the first group of people, Sarah, his drummer she recognized, and mingle.

Instead, his arm stayed firmly around her waist, and his larger than life, and all to real, presence at her side. Through the first, "this is Keira, an old friend," his eye twinkled there, "from home who lives nearby now! We just found out we are neighbors!" He popped a kiss to her temple on that one after an hour of chat and two more drinks for him, and three glasses of veuve cliqueot for her.

Neighbors was a stretch, but she was enjoying being the center of his attention too much, rather than another person to talk too, to correct him. She didn't shrug out from under his arm until she had to use the restroom. That was several glasses later. She was pretty sure she had had a whole bottle to herself and it was only 10:30.

She'd had enough she was hoping for a new year's kiss. He'd been really really touchy, and she was loving it. But, it could be construed as friendly, and he did seem to be affectionate in general. It was funny, she had been so forward on Christmas, but now, among strangers, in his other life, she was feeling inhibited.

"Just kiss him, if you want. If he rejects you, fine. Friends." She extended her hand and pretended to shake the air. Wow, she was drunk.

Keira was chuckling when she opened the door to the bathroom off the more populated parts of the house.  She was nearly to the corner into the living room when Harry appeared.

"Ahh! Harry, you gave me a fright!" Her hand was on her heart.

He was laughing and flushed and happy. She was really smitten, so smitten, she was rethinking her bargain with herself. She really didn't want to get rejected. 

"Sorry," he continued laughing, "I really didn't mean to scare you, I just wasn't sure where you were." He took her hand off her chest, and pulled her forward and kissed her hair. This was over the top? No matter how affectionate, right? 

He kept her close, and she looked up at his face when he loosened his hold. "Hi!" She glowed at him.

"Hiii!" He scrunched his face at her.

"You're adorable!" Jesus, did she just sigh at him.

"I'm not adorable." He shook his head. "I'm sexy." He put his nose to hers.

"Nope, definitely adorable." Keira was cross eyed looking at him this close.

"Heyyyy!" He ran his hands a little higher on her rib cage, his thumbs on the underwire of her bra. "I can also be sexy!"

She knew that. She'd thought about it a lot, actually. But his swings from cute to smug were all over the place. He was a cute drunk tonight.

"Prove it!" She taunted and bit her lip the way he seemed to like. They both had wide mouths. It made the kissing a treat. Lots of room to play.

His brow quirked. "All right, I can prove it. And if I do......" he leaned down and she could feel his breath on her neck. "You have to come upstairs with me at midnight." She felt and heard that request, bet, whatever.

Jesus, so back to sexy. "For a new year's kiss?" She asked breathlessly while his nose boasted over her cheekbone.

He just gave her a smug look and she was ready to go upstairs now. "Something like that."

"If I admit you're sexy, can we go upstairs now?" He was so close, she could almost get to his lips, he glanced back just an inch.

"Nope! I have guests." He shook his head, and her face must have looked like she was eating bitter lemon. He leaned into her ear again, "and I want you to think on what we might do up there, where I might kiss you, until then. While I make sure everybody is really drunk, so they won't notice your moans over the music."

Her what? He kissed her pulse point, she could feel how hard her heart was beating. Now he could too.
"My moans?" Did she moan?

"If that kiss I've been obsessing over is an indication," He looked her in the eye then. "You're loud, Keira. I like it. Wanna hear."

She was gonna kiss him. If her knees didn't go fully gelatin right now.

"Harry!" Mitch jogged up then. "Emi is sick. Think she was a little to excited for adult time with Adam. Can you help him get her out."

"Sure." He called back, but maintained eye contact with her. She thought she saw Mitch smile and shake his head, but she was still locked with Harry. "Will you be ok til I get back?"

"Yeah, I'm actually usually really good with new people." She shrugged. That was true, but she'd been nervous to come over tonight.

"I actually remember that about you, but just don't want you to feel abandoned. I'll find you soon, Yeah?"

"Yeah." God, her voice was silly right now. And then, Harry lightly pressed a kiss to her open lips and she lost all the breath that had been filling her voice.

Keira watched him walk away and slumped against the wall a moment. "Fuck's sake!"

It took her a minute to get her wits about her. Her first thought was another glass, but she decided she wad cloudy enough. And she definitely wanted to remember whatever happened when Cinderella time struck.

Keira finally made it out of the hallway and literally smashed into a tall dark haired man. "Sorry! Jesus, I'm more sloshed than I thought."

He laughed and his teeth were full in his mouth. "No, was all me, let me get you a drink to make up for it."

Which was how she wound up with a new flute of champagne and her back to a corner. She was nursing the golden liquid. She'd decided this was the last and time was running out. The last grains of 2018 slipping through the hour glass.

The last hour had seemed long. She'd lost track of Harry for the first time since she arrived.

It would have been fine, the people she was talking to were lively, lovely, he had good friends. But she was twitchy and all she could think of was his lips and midnight. 

Slowly, the group broke up, in search of more drinks, or a new playlist or summat. And she was standing near the corner trying to summon up the courage to go look for Sarah. She'd enjoyed her the most. She was quirky and a little awkward and funny, when she saw Harry making his way over to her.

The hair on her arms stood up when she realized it had been about an hour since he'd left and that he was making a b line for her. If she wasn't so turned on, she might be embarrassed that all her bluster about doing well in new situations looked like a bluff. 

"Hey! Sorry, took a bit. Emi threw up on me, I had to change. And shower." He dimpled.

"Well, my nostrils thank you!" What was that? He made her a little stupid.

"Yeah!" It was a squack of a laugh. "Do you need a new drink." He gestured in the scant space between him to where she was holding the nearly empty flute. 

"No, um, I think I'm good for the night." She smiled.

His brow creased, he took the glass and smelled it. "Do you feel alright? Or do you not like the taste, they said it was the good stuff."

"No, I like the taste, I'm just trying to keep my head on."

"Why?"

"Why what?" She was busy staring at his eyes. They were a bit glassy. she hoped he would remember midnight, or his plans for it.

"Why do you want to stay in control? I'd rather you lose it." He lifted the glass and she looked at it. He tipped it to her lips and she drank the last sip. "Now, can I have a taste?"

She'd barely nodded when his mouth was on her. His tongue slicked over the small gap his bottom lip had just vacated and Keira gasped. It slipped into her wanting mouth and her neck went soft. He caught it. The kiss got less controlled when her hands slipped up his shirt like she'd wanted them to on Christmas Eve. His hands were gripping her ass a second after she heard the glass get sat down. He squeezed and pulled her into him and he felt, full. After long minutes and a few of the loud moans he had mentioned, these ones she noticed, she pulled back to suck in air.

They were both breathing heavy, the same air, she taking his exhale, him her inhale. His hand migrated to grab the glass, while its twin ran round her outer thigh.

"Can I have a taste?"

"Of what?"

"Your lips?"

She may have been a little drunk, but she was fairly sure he'd had more than one.

"But you have?" He smirked at her and it brought her awareness to the warming center of her. Harry's fingers were below her short dress now, very high, on the inside of her thigh.

"Not those ones." He raised his eyebrows at her. "These ones." His fingers brushed over her panties and she yelped. Keira bit her lip to keep it down, and looked over his shoulder. The party was winding down, most people were looking jolly, but they were not alone.

"Harry!" She whispered loudly, and cocked her head over her shoulder. "Somebody might see!"

"No," he shook his head and ran his fingers over where she was swelling. "No one will see, not if we stay like this. The problem is." He hooked her panties to the side and she gasped. It was louder than her words had been. "Someone might hear." The callouses on his fingertips, from guitar sounded in her head, caught on her clit a little when he glanced it over and over. Keira bit off her moan. "If you can't be quiet, or if I have to kiss you, to shut you up, that would be conspicuous too. We get a little carried away kissing." His smile was wide as the sky. He caressed the sensitive nerve endings at her opening. "So I'm gonna smile, and you can bite your lip," he nodded his chin at her. "Like that. Like we are flirting, and I'm not getting you off so that you are very wet by the time we go upstairs, and we can fuck."

A moan slipped out then. "Oh God!" She covered her mouth.

"Pretend to laugh." He leaned in and she turned her gasp into a giggle. His nose on her neck, his smell in her head, his fingers working her.

Her thighs were trembling. "Harry!" She whispered, "my knees, I'm not sure," oh that was a spot. "I can stay standing." Her breath was rapid and her heart was speeding. She squeezed her thighs around his hand. It increased the friction. "Harry!" Her lip, She bit it fiercely, tasted rust. "I'm going to scream."

His hand cupped her chin and he put a tongue to the side of his mouth, "ok."

Keira contracted around his fingers, pulsed into his hand, and yelled into his kiss.

Her head was on his shoulder and he was making shushing sounds and smoothing her dress down.

"You look beautiful flushed." Was all he said about it. "We have half an hour." He kissed her cheek and winked at her before sucking his fingers into his mouth.

Keira held onto the table near her. "Holy fuck!" And she found a place to sit down while she could still use her legs. All of her was liquid.

She watched the whole room, while Harry went about hosting like he hadn't just had his hand knuckle deep in her pussy.

Once he was sure everybody still able to stand and toast had a glass, he turned on the telly and opened the balcony. He made his way over to her then, after the lifelong 30 minutes.

"Cmon." He looked gleeful, like they had a secret. Keira supposed they did. He kept his glass and gave her another, brimming with champagne, "drink it before it spills!" And he caught her empty hand while she giggled over her sip. She almost choked.

They fled up the stairs.

At the top, she stopped on the landing and saw the first firework go off! "Oh! That's why you opened the patio!"

"Yeah, but their view isn't this good!" And he stood behind her and walked her to the glass. Harry cleared the hair from her neck and kissed her, on the cord of muscle from her skull to her shoulders. Her belly pressed to the glass, and she could feel the cool of the night through her dress. Her nipples didn't cut through. Keira was surprised.

"You can be loud now," his hands pulled her dress up her body and over her shoulders and head. "Ah! I thought you'd not worn a bra!" Harry pulled her back enough to pluck at her nipples. When her jaw dropped at the sensation, he filled her mouth with his tongue.

It didn't take much more than a couple of tugs to
Relieve her of her panties. He had her writhing moments later, one hand across her body on a breast, the other cupping her weeping place, and his hard cock rubbing through his loose pants against her ass.

She knew she was being loud, she wasn't sure when it had changed from moans and gasps to, "Harry!" When she flexed against him he spun her quick and she forgot about the fireworks. Her hands pulled his shirt free of his pants, she didn't even bother to unbutton it, her eager hands pushing it up his body. He helped her get it off and she moved on to unbuttoning his pants.

He filled her hand up and she was happy to feel a mattress at her back and his motion and strong thighs guiding her up to the headboard.

He didn't stop kissing her, all over her mouth and neck. She could hear him rustling in the side table. The crinkle of the wrapper was louder than the booms outside the window.

Harry sat back on his haunches and she got her first eye full. She knew other parts of her body would be brimful soon.

His tip a deep pink, weeping. She had come, not so long ago, though the tightness between her legs made it seem longer. Harry had not. When Keira brought her hands up to help him get skinned. She gasped, "You're so hard."

"For you." The roll of the condom met his wiry hair, and he pressed her back to the bed. Keira was ready, more than.

But Harry trailed down, with his fingertips, followed by his lips, and teeth.

"Can I have a taste?" He asked again from between her thighs.

Keira answered with a moan. It lasted while his fingers parted her folds, and his fingertips teased her clit. He was holding her down after the first long swipe of his tongue from opening to the gathering of nerves he'd teased her to completion with in her living room.

By the fifth lick, Keira was almost ashamed she was coming. Almost.

"Fuck, fuck fuck's sake Harry, fuck me!" There seemed to be a escalation of the sounds at the window. More and more loud bangs and whistles, shrill pops.

Harry smoothed his long body up her own, the fireworks crescendoed when he fitted the condom tip he'd wet with saliva into her.

The first stroke, the joining, came on the final bang.

Harry came much later.