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Chapter Text

Emily is not beautiful; this is not a story about the geeky girl who's really very pretty but no one sees it because she has glasses and paint splattered overalls and once she takes them off, puts on a dress and let's down her hair suddenly everyone notices. Emily is just a normal looking girl, the type of girl you pass in the street every day, never giving her a second thought never mind a second glance. She does however have eyes that twinkle with mischief, a quick and easy laugh, a cast iron belief in herself and a killer smile. She has a quirky taste in fashion, knows a lot about art, talks passionately about music, is bright and is a fiercely loyal friend. She considers these traits to be more important than a happy genetic accident that leads to a killer body and symmetrical face. It's this belief, this "I'm fucking awesome, and fuck you if you can't see it" attitude that changed my life, made me see that beauty is nice but confidence is sexier, never to discount someone because they don't look the way you expect and most of all, when someone makes you laugh, makes you happier than you've ever been, makes you come so hard your legs turn to jelly and your heart triple in size, don't listen to other people but remember "she's fucking awesome and fuck you if you can't see it."
In essence...she made me get the hell over myself.

"You don't get it do you? You'll never have this again, never met anyone like her again. So what if the papers don't get it? So what if people wonder what you are with her for? She's everything you need and everything you didn't know you wanted. And if you can't see that then it's her who should forget about you. She deserves better."
I blinked at Zayn, unable to believe people thought him shallow. I was supposed to be the respectful, sweet and kindhearted one, who looked past the physical, Zayn the vain, image conscious one. Ha. I'm anything but.

So I'm Harry, nice to meet you. You might of heard of my band, Krazy House, you've probably heard our only no.1 Bang Bang You're Dead. You might even think you know all about me, I'm that idiot from that band who had that one hit, the one who's always pictured falling out of London's nightclubs and hotspots, the one that's linked to models and glamour girls. The one your girlfriend maybe has a crush on, the one who's on her list, the free pass list.
I've been accused of using London Fashion Week's runways like the conveyer belt at Yo! Sushi, picking off models like they're bowls of edamame beans and if I'm being honest, and I'm really trying to be honest here, that's not too far from the truth. I like beautiful women. So sue me. I was never horrid, always respectful, and I had relationships. But I never fell for any of them. None of them stimulated me. Until Emily bounced into my life at the junket for our new album anyway.

Or the one were Harry is in an indie band, is a bit more shallow than he'd like to think and meets a plain jane called Emily who's a right fireball and won't take any of his crap.

Chapter Text

"Yo Harry will you hurry up man? We're gonna be late." I heard Zayn shout from outside my bedroom door.

"I best get ready pet." I reached across to the girl laying in the bed beside me, kissing the tip of her pretty nose. "Last night was fun."

"It was." She looked at me coyly from under her long lashes. "Do you want my number?"

I said yes, of course, and gave her mine. She was a lovely girl and I didn't want her feeling used. We'd go for lunch or maybe for drinks and who knows maybe this one would be different. I couldn't remember a lot about how we'd ended up back here, but I'm sure she was interesting as well as beautiful. And man was she beautiful, all willowy limbs, clear hazelnut coloured skin and shiny hair.

"Haz you've 60 seconds and then I'm dragging you out of there in whatever you're wearing!" Zayn shouted again and I jumped out of bed, naked, pulling on the skinny jeans I'd worn last night and sniffed a few tops that were littered around my room until I found one that smelt ok. I really needed to do some laundry.

"Just let yourself out when you're ready to go love. There's some food in the kitchen. Maybe. Actually it might have been my turn to go shopping and I might have forgotten to. There's definitely coffee and tea though, help yourself. Speak soon yeah?" I kissed her again a little more deeply as she flushed a wonderful delicate shade of pink, dashed into the bathroom to paste up my toothbrush and brushing as I walked, went to join Zayn.

"About fucking time." he mumbled.

Zayn is my best mate, my roommate and the other founding member of Krazy House. He's not usually such a task master but this press conference and the new album were important. It was make or break time for KH. And we were proud of it, real proud, it was the album we'd always wanted to make. Somehow we'd managed to become a bit of a joke, not the cool indie band that changed the face of modern music that we'd set out to be, had been touted to be by the label.

You see we'd signed to an independent label, Domino Recording Company, and then the hype started. Write ups in NME, Melody Maker and Rolling Stone before we'd even recorded an album. We were to be the voice of a generation. And Sony came sniffing around, promising huge marketing campaigns and world tours; we ate it up (in our defence we were just naive kids) and switched to them. Big mistake. The one on one attention we'd received at Domino, the creative freedom, were gone.

"You just need to make an album full of songs like Bang Bang You're Dead, and we'll have no problems." We were told by one exec. Like we loved BBYD but it wasn't as easy as that, and we wanted our album to have different tones and themes not just big anthems. We had songs that were soft and heartbreaking, songs that were uplifting and everything in between. We'd wanted our debut to be well rounded. Unfortunately the label had had other ideas.

Things came to a head a year ago when our drummer, Liam, left the band. He was one of the founding members, my other best friend and one day he just woke up sent me and Zayn a text saying he couldn't do it anymore and he quit. We were devastated, the three of us had felt like a band of brothers.

Carl Barât, one of my favourite songwriters, described being in a band as 'The songs and being on stage, the four of us in the dressing room with all the anticipation. There's a certain intimacy that's like going into battle that no one else can know - well, except other bands and soldiers!' And I totally get it. So when Liam left, refused to take our calls or answer the door to us, eventually only sending an email to let us know he was ok because we'd been hounding Ruth, his sister, we kind of fell apart. One good thing came out of it though. We managed to get out of our contract with Sony and go back to Domino. We'd been lucky, they'd treated us like the prodigal sons rather than the treacherous bastards we'd been. We'd also lucked out with the investment they were willing to make in us.

"Listen. Your last album is shite. We realise the fact it's so shite has very little to do with you guys and a lot to do with Sony, so, tell us what it is you want to do." So we did, we told them about the songs we'd been writing for the last five years, since the band had first started, before we had even gotten a deal. They listened to the rough cuts we'd made and smilingly told us to take a year and get them right.

"This'll be the album you guys should've made in the first place. Only better. Do the songs the justice they deserve. We're very proud boys."

Now the album had had it's final cut and we were about to start the launch campaign, it was time to repay the faith Domino had shown in us.

We were about forty minutes into the press conference and I was starting to zone out, my eyes skimming the crowd of reporters in front of me. They came to rest on a huge bow. A huge bow next to a Victory Roll I believe it's called (you can't date a load of models and have two of your best friends be makeup artists without some of this crap sticking.) most people imagine music journalists to look really out there and cool but the truth is the majority are über conservative so the girl with the bow, she stood out like a sore thumb. Or an exotic flower in a bed of thistles.

"Yeah, the girl on the fifth row with the cool hair." I called out when we were ready to take the next question. A few women looked around, wondering if it was them I was talking about, but not this girl. She smiled and nodded at the compliment, in a 'yeah my hair rocks and I know it' kinda way. She stood confidently, revealing a 50's polkadot swing dress and a lot of Perspex and glass jewellery. The dress and hair went perfectly with her wingtip glasses, which I somehow just knew weren't an affectation but a necessity. She looked cool as hell.

"Guys. The album." She paused a reverential look on her face. "It's like being back at The Krazy House or The Night and Day. You've got it back. It's, it's everything it should be. Sorry!" She chuckled. "Time to stop fangirling and ask the question I guess! Do you feel this is the music you should've always been making? And are you now free to do that, being back at Domino? Who you never should've left by the way."

"Who are you writing for?" I asked amused. She was charming, eccentric, funny and I couldn't help but smile.

"Errr I have a blog, and I DJ on a pirate radio station." She jutted her chin out and met my gaze steadily, daring me to challenge her on her not so spectacular credentials. I fought the smile threatening at the corners of my lips.

"You ever go the K?" I asked using the nickname for the rock club in Liverpool we took our name from. We'd played our first gig there and The Night and Day Cafe is a bar/music venue in Manchester, intimate and alive with atmosphere, that we played a lot when we'd started getting a bit of a following. It was at the Night and Day that the A&R man from Domino had come to see us showcase. I kinda miss playing those small venues up North, with their sweat soaked walls and tiny stages.

"I started going there when I was 14. They were so lax on ID back in the day. I was at your first gig." She answered proudly.

I couldn't help the smile this time "Then you don't need to ask that question. You already know the answer."

She eyed me smirking, but trying not to, "Nice answer Styles. Slick."

"Answering for everyone else, who wasn't at our first gig...yeah we're very proud of this album." Zayn started answering her question but I wasn't really listening, there was something about this girl. I watched her watching Zayn, and her eyes narrowed. She whipped her head around and poked her tongue at me, then winked and chucking softly to herself turned back to Zee, the whole thing over in seconds.

"It's the best thing we've done since our debut EP. And yeah, there's more freedom to experiment and take time at Domino. We're really grateful to Laurence Bell and Jacqui Rice for welcoming us back with open arms."

"Thanks mate." She nodded to Zayn.

She started making notes, but looked at me over the top of her glasses, her eyes sparkling with humour. I made a decision. Calling over Paul our road manger whilst Zayn fielded a question from NME about Liam, using it as a chance to tell them Matt Helders had drummed on the recording, that we were looking for someone to drum live for us, and telling them that Matt was drumming for us that very night. That sent a susurration of excitement through the assembled journalists.

"What d'ya need Haz?" Paul asked bending down to hear my response.

"That girl, the blog one. Ask her if she wants an interview. I like her enthusiasm." I whispered in his ear.

He looked taken aback "She doesn't look like your normal type."

"I don't mean it like that! I just think she'll give a good interview, and she's a fan dude. She might be able to sell it, make some cash for herself."

Paul agreed and made a note to grab her before they all left.

The rest of the junket went as expected. Half of them hadn't even listened to the fucking album, never mind prepared intelligent questions. I fielded three questions about who I was dating for every one about the music. It was soul destroying but as Zayn never tires of reminding me, it's my own fault for living my life a certain way.

When it was over, we were discussing how it had gone, wondering how many of them would turn up to that nights gig, a preview of a few tracks off the album, when Paul brought Blog Girl through. She was walking behind him, her eyes everywhere, shamelessly taking in her surroundings. No doubt already thinking how she'd describe it in her blog. I liked her brazenness

"Alright fellas? What's this all about then?"

"I thought you'd be good to have a little chat with." I told her.

"We just checked out your blog. It's good. Real good. Walks the line between music snobbery and funny accessibility brilliantly." Zayn smiled. She had given her web address at the door. Her name was Emily and the site was warm and fun, but there was an underlying knowledge of music and the industry that was impressive.

"Cheers man! That means a lot. So how do you wanna do this? What are you looking for? A quick chat here? Something more in depth? Or how about we hang out for, say a week? It could be like a focus piece about the relaunch of the band. Go on, it'll be fun, we'll have a proper laugh."

I knew I'd been right about her, the girl had a brass neck. Zayn looked at me and Paul, wondering if we should go with her plan. Normally they'd shoot something like that down right away, but Emily had presented it in a way that sounded like it was no big deal. I admired her for it.

"Tell ya what. If you can get the piece published somewhere other than the blog, with a decent circulation by 9 tonight, then we're in." I offered, throwing down the challenge.

She bit her lip and ducked her head hiding the look of triumph written all over her face.

"You've got yourself a deal Styles."

"We'll be at The Nelsons Head at 9. See you there."

Chapter Text

I shook the guys hands, and I'll admit I lingered over Harry's, but I mean c'mon that guy had been my teenage crush. And he's only gotten better looking with age. He took both of my hands in his "I'm really hoping you come through here Emily, I think you're right, we'd have a lot of fun together."

"Think you could handle having fun with me? I'm not like those girls you usually hang with. I give as good as I get."

"Yep, definitely hoping. Don't let me down Em."

And with that he winked and I left, nodding goodbye to Zayn and Paul. As soon as I got outside the building, walking calmly until I was around the corner, I punched the air. Actually punched the air. I've never done that before. This could be huge for me, the break I've been waiting for. I whipped out my phone and called my one contact at a publication. My best friend and roommate Niall.

I got to The Nelsons Head at a few minutes to nine. I was still waiting to hear back from Ni, so I was feeling the pressure. Niall knew my deadline and I knew he'd definitely get back to me by nine, but I didn't want to have to take a rejection call in front of Harry, Zayn, Paul and whoever else they had with them. Their gig was at 11pm at The Forum on the Highgate Road in Kentish Town and I really wanted to go, and I knew they'd invite me even if I didn't get the job but can you imagine having to hang around them for two hours, the girl who couldn't pull it off? It would be mortifying. I'd balls it out of course, but it wouldn't be pleasant.

I was contemplating this, staring at my phone willing it to ring when someone pinched my waist. I yelped and spun around and of course it was Harry. Of course it was.

"Styles. Hey."

"Blog Girl. Hey."

"You've forgotten my name haven't you?" I challenged with a laugh.

"Your name is Emily, Emily Ellwood, you're originally from Bury, but travelled the eight miles to Manchester everyday for college rather than staying in your high-school's 6th form because of the music scene in Manchester being better. You moved to London at 18 for university and you've been here ever since, bar the time you lived in Paris because you wanted to write beside the Seine, on the left bank, because that's what writers do. You went for a two week holiday and stayed for a year, but only a year because you couldn't stand to be away from your beloved London any longer. You love the city, the scents in the air on a warm day, the vibrancy and the sense of promise. The feeling that today, any day, could be the one that changes your destiny."

I stood goggling at him, my mouth agape. Lost for words, possibly for the first time in my life.

"I read your blog. All of it. I know you Emily Ellwood. Far better than you know me. C'mon let's go get you a drink."

I nodded and followed him, racking my brain to think if I'd mentioned him at all in the blog. I'd started it when I was 16, around the time I used to go to all of Krazy House's gigs. He looked over his shoulder at me and I knew there was, something in his look told me.

"Styles has the charisma of Grohl, the raw sexuality of Jagger, the vulnerability of Cobain and the musical potential of Plant." Harry started to quote. "Not for nothing do I mention four of the most well known front men of all time. Styles has that rare gift, the front man who transcends the music he's playing, the genre, is bigger than it. Zayn Malik, bass, and Liam Payne, drums, are also both gifted musicians but Styles has something extra, that special something that tells you this band are destined for greatness. This smitten blogger is just honoured to have been there since the beginning."

"Oh my fucking god. Ugh I was 16 Harry."

"I knew I was right to pull you out that junket. That's the best review I've ever had, write something like that this time and we're golden."

"I only write the truth Harry."

"Yeah ya do." He grinned smugly.

"You did have all the potential in the world back then. Pissed that right up the wall didn't ya?" His face dropped and I instantly felt guilty. "Listen I'm sor-"

"We did. We do know that Em. That's what this albums is, an apology to people like you who believed in us back then. Who came to every gig and who wanted the world for us."

"Then on behalf of people like me, apology excepted. Now go get the world."

I said hi to Zayn and Paul, whilst Harry got me a gin and tonic and had a moment when Matt Helders and Alex Turner walked in.

When Zayn introduced me and Alex kissed both my cheeks, I took a second to mentally catalogue the exact feeling knowing my friend Robyn, the biggest Alex girl I know, would grill me on it for hours.

We were making idle chit chat for a while when I noticed Harry was struggling with the round, there being too many drinks for him to carry alone. I rushed over to help.

"So Blog Girl. It's two minutes to nine by my watch. I can take the suspense no longer...have you done it?"

I licked my lips nervously, about to launch into something to stall having to answer when I heard Teenage Kicks by The Undertones, Niall's personal ringtone, coming from my leather jacket's pocket

"I need to take this." I said holding up a finger to show I wouldn't be long. "Ni, so good to finally hear from you."

"You're with the band now aren't you?" He laughed, obviously hearing the stain in my voice.

"Mhm. Just a sec love." I turned to Harry "I'll just take this outside. Won't be a mo."

I made my way back in, my heart in my throat. I took a steadying breath and dragged my lips up into a huge grin.

"Well?" Harry looked me in the eye and I knew I'd been rumbled. I no longer cared though.

"Sorry about that guys, it was my friend Niall. He works at The Guardian and his editor just wanted to hash out some details."

Harry winked at me "Well done Em, knew you could do it."

"Of course I could. Anyway, it's going to be in The Observer (The Guardian's Sunday newspaper for any none Brits) in the magazine supplement, a ten page pull out special and they're going to be publishing snippets of the interview in the week running up too. They mentioned the possibility of a CD giveaway with a few album tracks on it, but they'll sort that with the label."

I was pretty sure the look on my face was obscenely smug but fuck it. I was getting a spread and a serialisation in The Guardian, I had every right to be smug. I'd started the day blagging my way into a press conference and I was ending it a bonafied journalist.

Zayn and Harry got very excited, ordering champagne and jägerbombs (an odd combination I thought, but whatever) and started making plans.

The words of Niall's editor ringing in my ears as they did "don't let the band pay for anything. We'll set you up an expense account when you come in to sign the contract tomorrow."

Expense account. Are there two more beautiful words in the English language?

The Forum was electric, they played wonderfully and I saw that old spark they'd been missing for far too long. I was transported to The Day and Night, to being 16 and it being the first time I'd truly felt part of something special. Now I was writing about them again, the first band I'd had love at first sight with.

When the boys came off stage they hung around taking questions from some of the other journalists there (god it felt good to finally think of them as my equals) before inviting me back to their house for an after party.

"You're only allowed to come if you come as Em our new mate though. Start work again tomorrow yeah? You're off the clock and off the record until then or you don't come." Harry asked.

"Oooo, am I being invited to a debauched rock star party, filled with drugs and groupies and immoral behaviour?"

Zayn and Harry looked at one another and burst out laughing.

"C'mon Blog Girl, we'll show you our post important gig ritual."

With that each lad threw an arm around my neck and dragged me out into the London night.

"You're kidding right? This is some kind of joke?" I could not believe the turn the evening had taken. When they shook their heads and patted the bed for me to join them I laughed, "Well I can certainly see why you don't want me writing about this."

When we'd finally arrived at Zayn and Harry's after stopping several times on the way, the boys jumping out of the Addison Lee cab to pick to what they kept calling 'supplies', Zayn had led me to his bedroom.

"Here, you'll probably be more comfortable in these." He said going to a draw and pulling out some stuff. "That dress is beautiful but maybe not great for what we've got planned." He handed me the clothes and pointed to the en suite.

I changed and went back through to find both boys dressed similarly to me, sitting on the bed, with a selection of DVDs in front of them.

"We watch Almost Famous, This is Spinal Tap and a couple of concert DVDs if we're still awake, " Zayn smiled with a shrug "it started when we were 16 and it stuck."

So I got on the bed with them, all three of us in sweats and tees, Zayn handing me a beer, Harry offering me a chip.

"This is really not what I was expecting."

"Why do you think we didn't want you writing about it? Harry has a reputation to uphold."

"Oi! No it's not that, it's just this is private. It's ours."

I couldn't help but beam at them for including me.

Chapter Text

I was trying to watch the movie but Emily's fidgeting was distracting me. I turned to tell her to quit it but the words dried in my mouth. She was unpinning her hair, shaking it out and carding her fingers through it. There was something very sensual about her movements and I found myself engrossed. Her hair was her best feature for sure, thick and silky looking and my fingers itched to touch it. "Your hair is gorgeous." I burst, not really realising I was saying it aloud.
Em looked amused "Thanks man. Oh nice one." She reaches out grabbing my hand, taking the hair tie from around my wrist and using it to pull her hair back into a ponytail. When her fingers brushed across my wrist I felt a wonderful tingling sensation. Which made me pull back. I'm not sure why, I'm usually the type of guy to go with anything that feels good at the time. But I guess the tingle made my heart beat a little faster and the way Emily looked at me, her brows knitted, an amused little smile on her face made me think about kissing her. Which is preposterous. I'm not in the habit of kissing women I'm not attracted to.
"You alright there Slick?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I think. Erm Zayn's sparko then." Again I'm not sure why I said it, why I felt the need to highlight we were practically alone.
"Listen Styles I know I'm sexy as fuck but you aren't feeling me up in the dark with your mate sleeping next to us. Ain't happening."
I starred at her for a few beats until I burst out laughing. I hadn't realised it but that was exactly why I'd told her. Because we were alone, she's a woman, has nice hair and she seems fun. How ridiculous am I?
"Fuck! I knew I was gonna like you Blog Girl. You don't mince your words do ya?"
"I don't. Now shut up and watch the film. Idiot." She laughed, nudging me with her foot.

I did as I was told occasionally stealing glances at her, as she laughed along with the This Is Spinal Tap. Big belly laughs, that made me think of the last time I'd watched this movie with a girl.
It was my last serious-ish girlfriend Kendall. She mentioned she'd never seen it when me and Zayn had been quoting it and I got all excited at the idea of being the one to introduce her to it. I'd watched her watching it, her pretty little nose wrinkled in confusion. She'd sat quietly until I'd embarrassedly admitted defeat.
"I think it must be boy humour sweetie." She apologised when I turned it off. "Or maybe it's only funny if your into music. You know I don't really like music."
I hadn't known. We split a week later.
Once again I spoke what was on my mind to Emily. It's a bad habit of mine, saying whatever I'm thinking.
"She didn't like music?? What? Who doesn't like music? It's like a primal, tribal thing that's hard wired into being human!" Em exclaimed.
"Right? I kinda started seeing her as a bit soulless after that. It was no great loss to be honest, I just wish I hadn't introduced her to my daughter. But there's nothing can be done about that I guess."
"Woah, back the fuck up Styles. Daughter?"
I played back what I'd just said and rubbed my eyes with a sigh.
"Pass me the remote, ok listen" I started trying to think of how to phrase this whilst pausing the DVD "Yes I have a daughter. Her name is Lux, she's three and the best thing that's ever happened to me. You can't write about her though. You have to promise me Emily." I looked her in the eye, pleading with her as her eyes danced across my face.
"Why? Why is your child a secret?"
I drew a deep breath and tried to explain.
"Her mum is one of my best mates, Lou, she's looked out for me since our first proper photoshoot, She's a makeup artist. It was a one night thing, what I'd call a drunken mistake if it wasn't for Lux. Lou met her partner Tom when she was pregnant and Lux has two dads now. She's not a secret, those who need to know know, my mum and dad, Gemma my sister and the rest of the family, Zayn, Liam, Paul, but Lux's too young to understand so for now I'm Harry and Tom is Daddy. She knows I'm her dad too but we're trying not to confuse her and we'd prefer to keep it out of the press because that's just not fair on her."
"Ok. I'll leave it out of the article. Must be rough on you though?"
"As long as Lux is happy that's all that matters. I stay at Lou and Tom's all the time, I see her every week and I can see her whenever I want, they come to my mam's for Christmas, Lou's family too and we make it work. It's not perfect but what family is?"
"None. Perfection is boring anyway. It's the imperfections that make life so colourful."
"Thanks. And thank you for not writing about it."
"Of course. Shall it go? Zayn's asleep and-"
"Don't be stupid. Unless you want to? I was thinking we could stick on a bit of Zeppelin or-"
"Shit keep talking like that and I might just change my mind about the feeling me up."
"Ha! Is that a yes on the Zep?"
Emily gave me a lopsided smile and turned her back, pulling up the back of Zayn's oversized t-shirt. In each corner of her back was one of the Zep symbols from Led Zeppelin IV. God this girl was cool.
"They're awesome!" I started to trace the ZoSo on her right upper back. Then it hit me. "You have the Sandy Denny symbol on your ankle! I saw it when you were taking your heels off! No one knows about the fifth symbol! Marry me now?"
She let the T-shirt fall with a soft chuckle.
"You've just been hanging with the wrong people dude, anyone in the rock business who doesn't know that doesn't deserve to be there. Now c'mon whack it on."

I woke up curled around Zayn, Emily starfishing us both to the edge of the bed. It made me smile rather than annoying me. Even2 in sleep she liked to make her presence felt, filling all available space with her body rather than her personality this time.
"Oi! Come on you two."
"Fuck of and die Harold." Zayn muttered.
"C'mon you've had the most sleep and we've a busy day. C'mon Zaynie." I coaxed using the nickname he hates. "I'll fry some eggs." I'd bought some breakfast things when we'd stopped for supplies last night. Emily had only turned on her side, curling herself up hugging the pillows, not even opening her eyes.
I gave them another dig in the ribs each then decided to wake them with tea and food. It knew from experience Zayn would be nicer all day if I woke him that way.
I was in the kitchen frying eggs and grilling bacon for me and Emily with my mind floating. I spent a good minute trying to decide if Emily was an Earl Grey or Assam girl when I remembered her blog. She practically mainlines coffee. Hmmm question is could I be arsed making proper coffee or should I just go instant. I heard my mothers voice somewhere in my mind appalled, telling me Emily was a guest and furthermore writing a huge article on us. Yeah I'd dig the cafetier out.

When I took the drinks through to Zayn's bedroom the pair were awake and chatting amiably about nothing much.
"Seriously why do boys have eyelashes like that? They're wasted on you. I wouldn't mind those cheekbones either actually. In fact can I just have your face please? I'm sitting here, no makeup on and you're face is making me feel a million times worse."
"Hey guys, coffee for madam, tea for sir."
"Thanks man."
"Styles you are an angel in heavy disguise. What's the plan for today then? I need to pop into Kings Place, to see my editor, (oh my god did I just say my editor?) at one."
"We have an interview at Xfm this afternoon, so can you make it?"
"Hmm, let me call my editor (did I mention if have an editor?) and see if I can move the meeting to this morn."
"I made you breakfast. I never make anyone breakfast. You have to eat it before you go."
"Yes Sir." She saluted, jumping out of bed.

We sat around the kitchen table, having lengthy discussion about Zayn eating smokey bacon crisps last nigh,a familiar topic between Zayn and me. He loves bacon but is trying to be a good boy and stay away. What sort of friend would I be if I didn't try to tempt him and make if as tough as possible?
"They've no bacon in them!" Zayn defended.
"Plus they don't even taste of bacon."
"Emily's right they don't."
"Aha! How do you know that Malik." I countered.
"Fuck off Harry, you know I've eaten bacon."
"I just don't get it. You'll drink but not eat pig? Pig is the most delishy of all the animals."
"Leave him alone Harry. I'd drink if I had to live with you."
I couldn't help but smile at how quickly Emily fell into our banter. It felt cosy the three of us being all domestic sitting around the table like this. I should cook more often.
Emily's editor emailed her back, sending her scurrying of to her own house to clean up before the meeting.
"I like her." Zayn said after she'd gone. "She's fun."
"You just like that she always takes your side. Yeah she's cool though. I think the article will be good."
"You should go see Lux whist you can."
"Yeah, I think I will."
I don't know why I didn't tell him that Em knew. I think maybe the night before, whilst Zayn slept and we talked, about Lux and music and Emily's year in Paris and touring and a dozen other things felt like it belonged to her and I. No one else. It had felt special, that instant connection, the giggles and jokes and most of all the trust. I knew she wouldn't tell anyone about Lux, just like she wouldn't tell anyone any of the other things I'd told her.

Chapter Text

"So how was it? Did they live up to expectations?" Niall asked from my bed where he sat watching me do my face.
"Niall it was amazing." I told him in the mirror. "The gig was so good, this album is fantastic and they aren't dicks. Far from it in fact. Me and Harry really bonded last night, he told me something and it kind of opened the floodgates we talked for hours, about love and life and music. We opened up to each other, sharing secrets and stuff so quickly, it was beautiful man." I smiled before continuing with my eyeliner.
"He told you secrets? This article is going to rock."
I paused again, turning to face him.
"No. The stuff we shared was in confidence, off the record if you like. I won't be using any of it. It wasn't like that."
"Babe, I'm sure he's a lovely guy and all but this is your career. If you know anything that's an exclusive, that will make a headline, you have to use it."
I stared at him for a long moment, giving him my best 'don't push me on this mate' look.
You have to understand he's not a bad guy and if he'd been there himself, if Harry had opened up to him the way he had to me, I know he wouldn't use any of it. But he wasn't and he's thinking of the crappy jobs I'd had to take just to make rent, the times I've not had enough money and had to make a decision to go to some gig I wanted to write about or eat, the soul destroying moments like the time I'd written winter skin care tips for Take a Break, a magazine filled with 'My Boyfriend Stole My Life Savings and Had Sex With My Sisters' stories, for £100. He was looking out for me, as always, and wanted this to mark the start of my journalistic birth.
"It was nothing that big anyway." I lied. Niall of course saw through me. He always can.
"Hmm sure. Just think about it yeah? You don't owe this guy your loyalty Em. He's not your friend, he's a subject. Don't forget that."
I nodded, not meaning it at all, my mind drifting back to Harry talking about kiss and tells.

"I've had a few girls sell stories about me. They've always been complimentary, never anything nasty but I hate it. My family see that stuff, hear the intimate details of my love life. I never expect it and every time it feels like a betrayal. It's not even like they sell them months later, shit one girl even did it while we were in a relationship. I did everything right, called her when I should, sent flowers, complimented her every day, told her she was beautiful every day, tried to share my interests with her, took an interest in hers, met her friends and tried to like them, hung with them even though I didn't particularly, was ok with her never wanting to hang with my mates, everything you're supposed to do to be a good boyfriend. And then one morning I leave her in bed to go get her her favourite drink from her favourite coffee shop and on the way back I pass the newsagents. I see her on the front page of The Sun. 'My nights of wild sex with Harry Styles'. I was devastated. It was no deep meaningful relationship but we were together you know? I cared about her, thought she cared about me, and she sold a story not about all the nice stuff, about what kind of boyfriend I am or about how I cancelled a show and held her when her aunt died but about what kind of lover I am; what I do in bed. Not that it's not all intimate, private, but it would at least have made me look like an actual person with feelings as opposed to the clichéd sex addict rockstar they always want to paint me as."
My heart ached for him.
"It's not much consolation I know but when someone lets you down like that, so hugely, they obviously aren't the person you thought they were, so they aren't worthy of your hurt. Basically fuck 'em."
"Absofuckinglutly."

The conversation had continued, somehow getting on to the subject of firsts.
"First album you bought?"
"Ugh it's really embarrassing Em, It was Silver Side Up by Nickleback. Yours?"
"The White Album. On Vinyl."
"I hate you. First shag?"

I'd found myself telling him about this band boy, who's gigs I'd gone to as a teen, who I'd decided would be my first. How I longed for him in the way only a 16 year old girl can, his songs making me feel it was ok to be me and to be me as big as possible.
I've never been the prettiest of girls, I've always been the best friend. The one the guys ask girl advice of, I think the sentence I heard from boys more than any other when I was growing up was 'I wish such and such was more like you.' and I'd nod and sympathise and not let them see that they were killing me. Once when we were at a party, a friend of mine, Bruce, was asked what was going on between us, a friend of his noticing how close we were. 'Eww dude! She's like my sister. I love her to bits but she's just not girlfriend material. She's a personality girl.' That pretty much summed up my relationship with the opposite sex. I was a personality girl but this band boy, his songs told me that cool girls were better than pretty girls. That there is nothing sexier than a girl with brains. I started to think sexy (a tactic that has worked ever since, I think sexy therefore I am. I pull guys way hotter than me because I know I'm boss.) and I was convinced he'd be the one to see past the superficial, would see me for who I really was and would be proud to have a 'personality girl'.

I got backstage once, sweet talked the guy in charge, the one I'd bugged for months, into finally letting me through, told him it was for my blog. And there he was, his tongue down another girls throat, a pretty young thing who I knew to be as dull as ditch water, and my heart had actually broken a little. I'd wept. I never even got to speak to him.

"First of all that Bruce kid was a twat. And band boy...He was a fucking moron. If it would've been me, I'd have been honoured. Making someone feel you get them, that they are ok to be them? What more could a musician ask for? Hell what more could a person ask for? He was obviously an idiot ."
"Ha, he didn't know I existed. Can't really blame the guy for kissing someone ya know? Anyway. My first was a guy nicknamed Ox a few months later. It was ok, not amazing but not as shit as most of my mates."
"Ox?"
"Yep. And yeah, he was hung like a horse. That's were the name came from. That was a heady time, I finally realised I could be attractive, started getting attention from guys and to be honest putting it about a bit. It was stupid, sleeping with men double my age, but I was just amazed anyone could fancy me."
"That's so sad."
"Yeah well. It didn't last long, and I soon learned my worth. That's not to say I don't love sex and I'm not adverse to the odd one night stand." I winked trying to lighten the mood.
"Well shit, I can't judge you there. But I am looking for more. It's just not worked out that way yet."
"You've not answered yet slick! Your first?"

"Em! Em!" Niall called snapping me out of my reverie. "You were miles away, you ok love?"
"Mmm just thinking about the meeting."
"You'll do great babe. You were made for this assignment."
"Well I know that, hehe. Now let me finish getting my war paint on and I'll meet you downstairs, go on shoo. And Niall," I called as he was leaving, chuckling as he went, "thank you so much. I'll never forget you hooking me up like this. I promise to thank you when I get my first Pulitzer."
"Girl I best he top of the list!"
"Only if I'm top of yours."
Niall is a 'proper' journalist and I firmly believe he might actually win a Pulitzer in day. He's worked at The Guardian since we graduated from City University's Journalism course. Were I'd barely managed to pass, Niall finished top of the class, and as it's the highest ranking course in Europe, The Guardian snapped him up. He was promoted a year ago and has been working in the investigative journalism department since then, earning himself several bylines. Every time he got one, I'd bring him breakfast in bed, the paper resting on the tray, open at his page. Then I'd cut them out and put them in a scrapbook he pretends not to know I have. He loves it really and I plan on giving it to him for his 40th. It will be filled with 25 years worth of his writing by then (he started writing for his school newsletter at 15, and I'd managed to get his Da to root them out for me.) Niall is the kind of writer I could only dream of being. I'm a columnist at best. But play to your strengths right?

I'd been to Kings Place, the building on York Way where The Guardian offices are, before to see comedy and bands at the small performance space downstairs or to meet Niall in the lobby, but never had I been up to the top floors, never had I ridden escalator up to the hallowed offices of Britain's greatest liberal newspaper. As I followed behind Niall, clutching my visitors badge, I felt truly honoured. Emily Ellwood was in the house!

Chapter Text

"Habby!" Lux called as I scooped her up and spun her around inhaling the wonderful smell of her hair. She smelt of strawberry shampoo and baby and love and home. I noticed she was wearing the Krazy House T-shirt we'd had made for her, and made a mental note to give Lou an extra hug for that.
"Hello Munchkin! How's my favouritest person in the whole wide world? Have you been having fun in nursery?" She had recently started the local primary school, in the nursery class, three mornings a week. We'd all taken her together on her first day, me and Tom sobbing like babies when she'd disappeared inside, Lou taking the piss but her brimming with pride and moisture.
"I like it and I have lots of new fwends!" I've got to admit it was a relief, I'd been worried about bullying, they start so young these days. But my little Luxy has the most infectious personality ever and apparently already had the nursery nurse and teacher wrapped around her little finger as well as the other kids. That's my bebe.
"That's great baby girl." I peppered her face with kisses, as she giggled, my heart tripling in size. It always feels bigger when she's around, and I can actually feel it expand. Sometimes when I'm with her, when I hear her laugh, I feel so happy, so light, I'm sure I'm going to float away. It's better than being on stage, better than any drug.
"Come see what daddy made!" She struggled for me to put her down, taking my hand and pulling me in the direction of the kitchen when I did. I allowed her to lead me through to where Lou was on the phone.
I dropped a kiss on her cheek.
"Thought I heard your key in the door." She covered the mouthpiece and kissed me back. "Gimme a sec to finish up here, it's work stuff. Tom's out in the garden. I'll be out in a minute."
"Come see Daddy Habby!"

I love Tom, he's exactly the kind of guy I want to be when I 'grow up', and both Lou and Lux adore him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't envy him at times. He gets to tuck my little girl into bed every night, tell her a story and kiss her goodnight, take her to nursery in the morning and pick her up at lunchtime, take her to the park to ride the swings, feed the ducks and teach her to read. When she's ill it's him who rubs her tummy, when she scrapes her knee it's him who kisses it better, when she cries it's him that mops I up her tears. When she has a nightmare it's him that sings her back to sleep.
Whenever I'm there he let's me do all that stuff, knows how much I cherish those moments, actively encourages it, wants Lux and I to have a close, great relationship. And I know I'm lucky that it's Tom that's the guy in Lou's life, a guy I like and respect and not some douche who doesn't care about Lux. But that doesn't stop the pangs I feel at 4am, when I'm on a tour bus in some place I don't even know the name of. The guilt that my baby calls another man daddy.
When I told my mum, explained about not wanting to confuse Lux and that she'd call me Harry for now, until she was old enough to understand, she'd been sad but had agreed.
"Ok sweetheart, I understand, and I know Lou would never push you out. If anyone else was her mother I'd be concerned, but not with Lou. She'll never deny you your rights. As long as she calls me Nana. No way is my first grandchild not calling me Nana Anne or Nanny Anney!"
At times I even got jealous of that, everyone had a familial name except me. Everyone. Gemma was Auntie Gem, Meg, Lou's best mate, was Auntie Meg, in fact all of our friends were Auntie this and Uncle that. We don't want her to call me Uncle Harry so I was just Harry (or Habby, she still struggles with her r's. I kind of love it and hope it stays that way even when she can pronounce my name properly. It sounds a little like daddy.)
"Habby you not listening!" She pouted up at me, making me smile. She gets the same furrow in her brow as me when she's in a bit of a mood, has a strop on or is confused.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, what did you say?"
"Daddy is building us a den." I could see her excitement had diminished by my not paying enough attention. Well we couldn't have that. I crouched down to see her at eye level, my hands on her little waist.
"Wowser! Your dad is a very, very clever man. Shall we go help him?!" I injected all the enthusiasm I felt into my words, making her beautiful little face light up.
"Yeeeeah!"

We found Tom at the bottom of the garden, building Lux a Wendy house. He'd finished the frame and was starting to paint.
"Hey bro, how're you doing?" He asked, giving me a 'broshake'.
"I'm good man, real good. You?"
"Yeah, just getting ready to put the base-coat on this. You here for a bit? Want some old clobber to change into and give me a hand?"
"I was going to take Lux out to feed the ducks if that's cool?" I hate having to ask, and Tom gave me a look that said 'dude why are you even asking? You know you don't have to' but I feel like I should. I'd called ahead to let them know I was calling over, not wanting to disrupt Lux's routine too much. Since Emily knew about her I didn't have to worry about that, but if was still going to be the busiest week I'd had in months, years probably, plugging the album everywhere and anywhere that would have us. I wanted some guaranteed time with her, knowing I'd be lucky to grab half an hour here and there over the coming week.
Seven days might not sound like a lot, but it's an eternity to be without your heart and that's what Lux is. My heart and soul.

When we returned from the Regents Park Lux was fighting to stay awake, the fresh air, and running around having tired her out.
"I fed her whilst we were out, so she's good to go up for her nap." I told Lou, who was looking a bit stressed.
"Great, thanks Sweetheart. Do you want to take her up for her nap?"
Of course I did, and after I'd changed her into her Adventure Time pyjamas, and tucked her in to her bed, making sure she had Baby Bear to snuggle into, I let her pick a story for me to read to her. She decided on The Gruffalo, which I read all the way through, putting on a different silly voice for each character. She fell asleep four pages before the end, after yawning past herself for the last five, her eyes fluttering closed for longer and longer. I still finished it though, stroking her warm cheeks as she slept, taking a mental picture of my beautiful, wonderful girl. Just as I made to leave she murmured "Love you Habby."
"Love you too darling. Sweet dreams."

"Hey love, she go down alright?" Lou asked when I came back downstairs, finding her and Tom in the sun lounge.
"She's sleeping like an angel." I smiled, trying not to think of her waking and me not being there. I'd told her I wouldn't be, but that I'd call her before her bedtime to say goodnight. She just nodded which made it worse somehow, the fact she was so used to me not being there.
"Do you want some tea or coffee? A slice of cake? I've been baking." Tom offered.
I checked my watch, figuring I had half an hour before I had to go to the radio station.
"If it's handmade defo! And a coffee would be great."

We sat, companionably talking about Lou's latest job, Tom's band and how Lux was getting on in school. It's times like these, the three of talking about our daughter that I realise how good we have it. Lux is lucky to have Tom and having three parents, who love her dearly can't be a bad thing, can it?

Chapter Text

"Blog Girl!" Harry greeted me, wrapping me in his arms for a bear hug. It made me grin from ear to ear, him acting like it has been weeks not mere hours since we'd last seen one another.

We were in a pub around the corner from the Xfm radio station, having arranged to meet there in a bizarre series of texts. I'd got one from Zayn about an hour after leaving their house. A simple 'Hey Em, hope your meeting goes well. We have the Xfm interview at 3:15, so do you want to meet at The Round Table about 2:40? It's a pub on Leicester Square just by the radio station. X (:'
A quick cool was all that was needed but an hour or so later I got another text from a number I didn't recognise.

'How come Zayn has your number but I don't?!'

'Styles I take it?'

'Who else? So? How come Zayn's got your number and I don't?'

'Cause he asked for it? What does it matter anyway? You've got it now.'

'When did he ask you for it?'

'We exchanges numbers whilst you were making breakfast this morning, just before the conversation about me wanting to steal his beautiful face.'

'Meh beautiful people have no personality, Zayn's just the exception that proves the rule. Believe me, ordinary looking people like us are much more interesting x'

'There is nothing ordinary about you Styles. Nothing.'

'This is true, I'm like Mary Poppins.'

'You're far from perfect. Anyway, what's the big deal about Zayn texting me...you jealous ;)'

'I just think that as it was me who plucked you from the junket and set the challenge, it should be me you liaise with.'

'Why can I hear the innuendo dripping from that, even in a text And message received Sir, I'll liaise the shit out of you. Now leave me alone, I'm very busy and important.'

'See. Just more interesting. Later Blog Girl! P.S Lux say 'ello and to stop distracting me. I told her you could help it you're just a very distracting woman.'

"You're in an awfully good mood Slick." I laughed when he finally released me.
"I am. I spent the morning with Lux and now I get to spend the afternoon with you. Now that's what I call a reason to be cheerful."
"You're such a creep! I'm not going to write a glowing article just because you're a brown noser you know? I will quote you warmly and accurately."
"Almost Famous?"
"Yep!" I could help but twinkle up at him for getting the quote, my head tilted back because of his stature "How was Lux? You have a good morning?"
His face got all soft, his eyes widening. A look of childlike joy on his face.
"It's so nice to have someone new ask me that, you've no idea. And she was great, all giggly and giddy and we fed the ducks and played on the swings. She's getting real good at pushing me now."
"You're an idiot. I'm glad you had a fun time though. Listen, when Zayn and Paul get here I've got to go over some stuff with you." Damn I was dreading this.
"Sounds ominous."
I just looked at him, bitting my lip for a moment. "Not ominous as such."
"Em-"
"Hey guys, sorry we're a bit late." Zayn greeted whilst Paul nodded hello and headed to the bar.
"It's not about Lux? Or any of the stuff we talked about is it?" Harry hissed at me, grabbing my hand in his a little too tightly.
"Of course not! Calm down!" His grip loosened and he grinned at me sheepishly.
"Sorry, that was out of order."
"What the hell are you two whispering about so intensely?" Zayn asked as he folded into the bar chair.
"Blog Girl has news apparently."
"Just wait for Paul I'll tell you all together. How has your morning been Zayn?"
"Good thanks. How'd the meeting go miss professional journalist?"
I exhaled, not wanting to have to lie. Luckily Paul arrived with our drinks.
Once everyone was seated, I closed my eyes took a deep breath and began.
"Ok the meeting went well, they're offering great terms for me and you guys. They'll be in touch with management this afternoon to hash out the details. But there was this one thing that I'm a bit uneasy about. I'm going to be interviewing Liam."
I raised my had to stop the questions they were all about to ask. "Please let me finish. They wanted it to be an ambush kind of thing. Like I'm supposed to get the official version from you then the truth from Liam in secret."
"You are fucking kidding me!" Paul exclaimed, banging his hand on the table.
"I'm not supposed to tell you. I'm risking the biggest job I've ever had here, as well as my best friend's job and possibly our relationship telling you this stuff, but I couldn't set you up like that. I had to let you know. If it's not me who talks to him they'll send someone else. It's up to you. But I'll have your backs a helluva lot more than some staffer at the paper."

Zayn had said nothing, his head down the whole time. Finally he raised his eyes to me.
"Have you spoke to him yet?"
"Yes. They called him and it was on speakerphone."
"How did he sound?"
There was something in the way he asked, in his tone, that made me think of when you bump into a friends ex and then they ask how they looked when you tell your mate you've seen them. "Were you guys-" I started.
His eyes widened and he shook his head almost unnoticeably, glancing at Harry and Paul. Shit. 'Please?' He mouthed at me,
"Were you guys wanting me to do it or not?" I covered, Zayn visibly sagged with relief which I'd always thought that was just one of those metaphors like 'my heart beating out of my chest' or something but Zayn's shoulders dropped, all tension leaving his body. Now that I need to get to the bottom of.
Harry looked at Paul who shrugged and Zayn who nodded.
"Fine. You do it. But you'll let us see the bits about him before you submit them yeah? We don't want any nasty shocks when it's published. Not from our best friend."
"I'll let you hear the whole interview and I'll show you any parts about him before I submit them." I agreed.

What was I thinking! Niall will fucking kill me if he finds out how many concessions I'm making for theme. This goes against every rule I set myself when I was starting out in Uni, hell I was more principled at 16. But I felt like I knew Harry, really knew him. Like he was my friend and I wouldn't, couldn't, fuck him over. Zayn too but mainly Harry. So all rules about journalist integrity, about writing the truth, the whole truth, were of secondary concern. Friendship is more important than that to me. I don't betray people I care about. Plus I couldn't help thinking of Harry's 'first time'
story from last night.

"I was fifteen, her name was Emily."
"Shut up!"
"Yeah ha, I've always had a soft spot for Em's since then. It was sweet, she was my first girlfriend and I adored her. It was all sweet and innocent, even the sex, all holding hands and whispering I love you's. On the walk home afterwards I cried because I knew nothing would ever be that innocent, that pure again. We broke up a few months later, GCSE exam stress and coursework deadlines, plus I'd started the band. But I always thought fondly of her. Until I got the call from the record company telling me she was going to sell the story of my first time unless we paid her more than the papers were offering. I was tempted to tell her to fuck off, but in the end we paid her off. Another betrayal. And now something that was beautiful once is tainted forever. I was right back then on that walk home. Nothing ever was that innocent again. I cried when I got off the phone, when they'd called to tell me."
"I'm so fucking sorry man."
"It was then I thought fuck it, the nice girls are just as bad as the glamour girls. Why not have fun with beautiful women? But it's starting to wear thin. I want to find the one like, but it's just not happening."
"Maybe you're looking in the wrong places?"
"I'm starting to think it might be." He'd looked in my eyes and my heart had raced, so I closed mine and gave myself a talking to.
'You are no longer 16, convinced he'll be the one to understand you and see you for who you are. You cannot be that girl again, pinning all your hopes on the band boy. He didn't see you then and he won't see you now. So just stop it.'
"Pass the Doritos dude."

The last thing that man needs is another person fucking him over. I will never. Some things, some people, are just too important.

Chapter Text

"So who do you have with you today guys? We recognise Paul, your road manager but who's the lovely lady you have with you? A girlfriend maybe?" The DJ asked, angling for an exclusive.
"That's right she's Zayn's girlfriend." Zee wasn't taking the news about Liam well, he'd gone all quiet, sullen and moody. A look I have to admit looks good on him. Credit were credit is due, the kid works brooding well. Nevertheless. "Yeah they've been together for what six months now? Is that right Emily?"

Em just rolled her eyes and flipped me the bird. The DJ looked back between Zayn and Em, both of whom were grinning at one another in a 'bloody Harry' kinda way. But the look of incredulity on his face wasn't lost on on either of them as it wasn't on me. Emily looked down sadly for a moment before exhaling deeply and looking back up smiling again, it no longer quite reaching her eyes. Oh hell no. He did not just make that wonderful, confident, woman feel crap about herself?!
I glanced at Zayn who had a face like thunder, his jaw was pulsing.
"Yeah six months, although it's a year if you count the six months I spent begging her to let me take her out. I've never worked so hard to get a woman, but she gave in to me in the end. I keep proposing and I'm sure she'll give in to that eventually too." Zayn smiled fakely at the douche, before turning to smile much more genuinely and softly at Em.
"Thank you." She mouthed at him. Her eyes were sparkling again and I couldn't help but nod in satisfaction. I mean who did this dude think he was? Yes Zayn is ridiculously handsome, and yeah Em isn't amazing to look at (I hate even thinking that) but, and bare in mind Zee is my best mate, when it comes to awesomeness- she outstrips him twenty to one.
"Not if I steal her first she won't. I don't plan on playing fair here Zee. Fair warning all's fair in love and war."
"Well guys you heard it hear first! Next up is Harry's pick; what've you chosen Mr Styles? You all know the score, our guest suggests three songs we vote on what we want."
"Erm, well first; a friend of mine told me the first album they bought recently...and it's ridiculously cool. So in honour of that I've chosen Blackbird, which is on The White Album, by The Beatles. My second is Narcissist by The Libertines, because Barat and Doherty are my favourite lyricists in the last 20 years and have massively shaped the way I play and write music. The last is Red Lights Indicate Doors Are Secured by Arctic Monkeys because Matt said he'd kill me if I didn't choose one of theirs."
"The White Album was their first album? What a legend! So what are everyone's votes? Zayn?"
"Three amazing songs, well done Harold. Hmm this is tough! I think I'll go wiiiiith...the Libs."
"Paul?"
"The Beatles. Always."
"Em?"
"I'd have to go with Narcissist. As much as I looooove Blackbird, I listened to that album this morn." She looked at me and smiled and I knew she'd listened to it because of last night. I may have listened too.
"I vote blackbird!"
"Harry you don't get to vote! And I vote the Libs so here you go people Narcissist by The Libertines as chosen by Mr Harry Styles."

Whilst the song played, the idiot DJ tried to bum up to me, you know that annoying thing when you've already taken agin someone and they try too hard to be your mate? That. But I was busy watching Emily grabbing Zayn and then Paul, making them dance. The Rockabilly inspired riff fitted her look perfectly, and she could move. Not that she took herself too seriously, all cheesy moves and stuff, but I could see that was just to get Zayn and Paul to relax into it. As soon as they had I was proved right, her closing her eyes, seemingly slipping into a world of her own, just her and the music.
"What was that?" I asked the sycophantic DJ.
"I was just asking why Zayn is with that girl. I mean she seems lovely but-"
"But what? Go on finish that sentence. I dare you." I eyed him not blinking, wanting to rip and tear at him. I thought of her mate, that Bruce kid, and the lad from the band and realised she'd been dealing with this shit her whole life. And she wasn't even ugly, (not that that would make it ok) just normal looking.
"Harry come dance!" Zayn called, looking all smiley, his eyes crinkled. How'd she do that? Manage to get him out of his funk so quickly? It usually takes me ages, everything I say and try to do always makes it worse. But she makes him dance, something he's not a big fan of, and he's smiling like an idiot. He best not want to fuck her. I don't know why I just thought that. It must be because she's a journo and we don't need him screwing her and then it getting awkward. Mind you, if anyone would be interesting enough to keep a man interested...bet she knows how to fuck like a-
"Harry?"
"Hmm. What?"
"The songs almost over. You owe me a dance." Emily told me playfully, pointing at me and pouting her lips, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Yep defo a cracker in the scratcher, fuck bet she's filthy. Wow. Ok. I need to stop this. I don't fancy her and it's just rude to reduce a woman to that.
"I fucking love The Libertines and Carl with the hair, and the twinkle in his eyes and the way he pouts...bet he's filthy in bed." I heard Em say to Zee her face way too wistful. Well shit.

"Where are you going?" I asked confused.
"Home. I have to write this lot up." Emily yawned. It had been a long day of press, and Emily had traipsed after us all day, cheering us up when we'd been flagging, with games like 'fuck/marry/kill' as well as her music version of it 'duet/bin/join'. Anyway it was 11pm now and whilst me and Zayn were getting in the car to go home Emily was throwing her ridiculously big bag over her shoulder and heading in the opposite direction.
"But I thought you were gonna stay at ours?"
"Well I have to write babe. They think I started yesterday and I've not even written the gig up yet."
"Yeah but I thought you were staying at ours for the week?" I hadn't. I don't know why I was so desperate for her to come back. It's not like I won't be seeing her tomorrow morning anyway. And if she didn't come I could see if the girl from the night before last wanted to come over. But still I'd rather have Emily there.
"Well I guess I could stay. Erm can we swing by mine for some stuff for tonight and the morning and I'll pop home and pack some for the week at some point tomorrow?"
"Sure. Perfect, we'll order a take away or pick something up too because I don't know about you but I'm starving!"
"I've got a Guardian credit card...get the fanciest takeout you can find. I'll take us all out for a dead posh dinner tomorrow though yeah?" She looked so excited at the thought of going somewhere 'dead posh' that I got excited for her, trying to think of somewhere good I'd been.
"Will you two hurry up? I need to sit on the sofa and have a joint. Come on!" Zayn shouted, also assuming she was coming back home with us. Hmm.

Chapter Text

"Talk to me Zayn." I asked as soon as we were alone in the boys living room.
"Liam came on to me one night."
"What??" Whoa. Ok I kinda thought *maybe* something had happened but I didn't expect him to open up about it so quickly!
"It was nothing really, just a clumsy attempt at kissing me. We'd been writing together, working on some lyrics to go with a drum and bassline we'd been playing around with, trying to get something basic together for Harry to put the melody over. It got kinda melancholic, these beautiful introspective lyrics coming from Liam that I never knew he had in him.
'Is it cruel or kind not to speak my mind
and to lie to you rather than hurt you
Well I'll confess all of my sins after several large gins
but still I'll hide from you, hide what's inside from you.'
I stopped him and said something about it being gorgeous and I asked what it was about. And he just stared at me for this long beat, the look on his face making me nervous, although I didn't really know why. Then he crashed his lips into mine. I laughed it off, somehow, but it kept happening. Him getting bitchy if I was with a girl or trying it on when he was drunk. I went on for far too long before I finally spoke to him about it. He told me he loved me, like was in love with me. I freaked a bit. That's probably an understatement. I didn't take it well at all. Which after a while pissed him off, I guess. He left the band but not before telling me I was lying to myself if I was going to deny our connection, the tension that bubbled beneath the surface. We...shit we did stuff, then I kinda freaked again. Made a big deal about pulling some girl the next night, made sure he knew, made sure he could hear us screwing in the next room.
Then he text us both me and Harry saying 'I can't do this anymore'. Harry's always taken it to be solely about the record company and having to settle for playing mediocre music that wasn't what we want to play and stuff. But he meant me. I got another text from him, a week or so later, saying that I was a fucking coward, that I loved him back but was too much of a pussy to go with it."
"And do you? Do you love him back?"
"I, I don't know."
"Tut. Don't be a tit Zayn. You obviously do."
"You won't put this in the article will you?! Or tell Haz?" Zayn asked suddenly wild-eyed.
"Of course I fucking won't! I'd never out someone! And fuck between you and Harry this damn thing is gonna have more holes in it than Swiss cheese. You two are going to have to start giving stuff I can actually use or the whole thing is just going to be "they are nice" I've got ten fucking pages to fill"
"Sorry. Wait what do you mean between me and Harry?"
"He told me about Lux, some other stuff too."
"Shit really? When?"
"Last night. What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing. It just confirms something I was already thinking."
"Which is?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Hmm whatever. Anyway I will need some real stuff I can use ya know? The whole point of me being with you all the time is so we can just chat rather than me interviewing you. It's more organic and the readers will feel like they know you both more that way. They'll relate to you better because I will, but you guy need to stop telling me all your secrets. I've nothing real of you guys to use, just an itinerary and the record station joke about you being my boyf."
"You know it wasn't directed at you right? That we weren't being mean?"
I rolled my eyes "Of course I do. The guy was a jerk. And you were both so sweet and the only reason I'd write about it is because you both look like super sweethearts in it, which you are."I smiled at Zayn. Taking his hand and giving it a grateful sneeze.
I've dealt with guys like that twat of a DJ my whole life, I don't really want to tell the world of the latest occasion a guys looked at me like that, in a 'what makes her so special?' way. He's an idiot and I'd rather forget the look of incredulity on his face, the almost disgust at the thought a guy like that looked like Zayn would want a girl like me. But I'll share it (out of context so as to not name the wanker) to show just how sweet these guys are, how welcoming and open they've been how they've made me feel part of the gang.
"Thank you Emily. I've never told anyone about that stuff with Liam. It feels good to."
"Anytime babe. Anytime you want to talk about it, about him, I won't ever use a word, I swear." I promise.
"I know. You missy are a very special person and you are gonna make some guy so giddy with joy."
"Right back at ya" I winked laughing at his face which quickly went from shock to a grudging smile which turned to a sniggering laugh.
"What are you two giggling about?" Harry called as he walked back in the living room. He'd been off tidying his room for me. Which I had to admit made me both piss myself laughing and kinda coo that he was tidying his room for a girl like a teenage boy having his first girlfriend over. Not that this was that kind of deal of course. "You."
"Funny. So Blog Girl, you finished your submission?"
"I have."
"Do you want to go to bed?"
"Yessss."

Once I'd said goodnight to Zayn (him saying an emphatic "thank you for today." that had Harry giving us both suspicious looks) and was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, I heard Harry banging about in his room. When I came out, in the oversized Dylan T-shirt I sleep in with my hair down and my face free from makeup, I realised the noise had been him getting stuff together to sleep on the sofa, blankets and whatnot.
"I'll get out your way now."
"What are you talking about?" I asked as I climbed into bed. "Get in." No way was I kicking the poor lad out of his own bed. That sofa was not comfy.
"Oh, are you sure? I don't mind sleeping on the sofa?"
"Harry just get into bed man."

"Em? You awake?" Harry stage whispered, all loud and annoying.
"I am now."
"I can't sleep. Can we play a game?"
I sighed and turned to face him,
"What kind of game?" I asked suspiciously.
He rolled his eyes with a grin, seeing instantly where my mind had gone.
"Like we've been playing all day. Fuck/marry/kill."
"If we must. You go first, I'm assuming you thought of a really good one and that's why you're waking me up at 3:20 in the morning to play a silly game?"
"We don't have to play if you don't want to." He looked like such a little boy, frowning and pouting that I found myself reassuring him I wanted to play.
"Oh c'mon Harry, I want to play. Promise."
"Ok. Zayn, Liam and me."
"Hmmm. I'm defo ducking Zayn because, well he's gorgeous. But who to marry?" I paused weighing up the pros and cons of each boy.
"Excuse me, I laying right here."
"Yeah but Liam's a drummer. I've always had a thing for drummers. Plus I don't know him but I'll bet he's not annoying as you."
"Huh fine marry Liam. I hope you'll be very happy together." And with that he rolled over in a huff. I practically pissed myself laughing. His little face had been so upset. Priceless. Once I'd stopped laughing and whipped away the tears I felt a little guilty. He was facing away from me but I could tell he was stewing so I threw an arm over him in apology and snuggling in whispered "Of course it'd be you silly. I'd have thought that was obvious."
"Really?"
"Really." I pulled myself up a little to kiss his cheek but he turned his head to face me and our lips connected. I started to pull back, ready to laugh it off but hid hand went to the back of my head and he kissed me back. I don't know his to explain this but I kinda froze, and so did he, both of our lips still puckered, both of our eyes open staring at one another. I was sure he'd be able to hear my heart hammering, and how warm my cheeks had gone. Harry appeared to reach a decision after what felt like hours (in reality it can't have been more than mere seconds) and very deliberately closed his eyes and finished the kiss. Then he kissed me again. Properly, like this time he meant business. Slowly my own eyes fluttered shut and I let myself relax into. Well in for a penny in for a pound right? We exchanged lazy kisses for a while, never fully breaking apart, until finally, finally he hesitantly deepened the kiss. We were both almost shy at first but as soon as our tongues touched and started to massage each other's it was like a starting gun going off. Before I knew it Harry was out of his uncomfortable position and flat on his back, dragging me on top of him so I was straddling him, never breaking the kiss. His hands were tangled in my hair and we went for it, devouring one another with a need that was almost scary. All rationale, all thoughts of professionalism and integrity went right out the window, hell all thought did. I was no longer thinking simply feeling. That is until I found myself pressing down on to, what can only be described as, an impressive hard on. It brought me back to myself with a crash, shaking me out of whatever the hell it was that was causing me to act like this. I realised one of Harry's hands was on my breast, gently squeezing and I pulled back instantly.
"What the fuck are we doing?"
His eyes flew open. "I have no idea."
We sat like that, me still able to feel his, manhood shall we say, pressed against me, both looking at one another in sheer confusion for far too long. Then Harry started sniggering and I was momentarily pissed off, before realising just how bloody ridiculous the whole situation was and joining in.
"Your face Em!" He managed to get out between laughs and the thought of his face, the sheer bafflement had me struggling to breathe it was so funny. I rolled off him and we lay side by side, both actually doubled over with laughter.
"We're idiots." I chuckled once we'd both calmed a little.
"We really are. Come here you." He held out an arm for me, I snuggled into his side and he drew me closer with it. Kissing the top of my head he sighed contentedly. "G'night Blog Girl."
"G'night Styles."

Chapter Text

I woke suddenly with a start. My heart was racing, my adrenaline pumping. Something had awoken me so I strained my ears listening for what it had been. There was nothing. I let my eyes roam my bedroom and as I woke up a bit more remembered Emily was in my bed. I looked down at her, snuggled into my chest and pulled her in closer. I might not fancy Blog Girl but shit can she kiss.

I don't know why I decided to kiss Em, I'd love to say it wasn't a conscious decision, that I was just a reflex but it absolutely was. When she accidentally kissed me and we'd been laying there with our lips connected both of us slightly freaked, a voice in my head had said "Kiss her properly. Close your eyes and kiss her." So I did. And it was fucking glorious, until it was fucking hilarious. I just really hope things don't get weird between us in the morning, it'd suck if we lost our bond. I still find it mad how quickly we'd taken to each other and I'd really hate it if-
"Shuddup 'arry you idiot, I'm ya mate."
I almost jumped out of my skin. Had I be speaking out loud again? Wait. She's still asleep!
"Bahahaha!" She laughed in her sleep, making me realise it was her that had woken me in the first place. She looked so sweet, her eyes screwed shut, her shoulders shaking, that I found myself stroking her cheek with the back of my hand, like I do to soothe Lux when she is having a bad dream.
"Niall?" Her eyes started to flutter open, as she spoke and she smiled when she saw it was me. "Oh it's you. Hi Styles."
"Hey Blog Girl."
"Was I talking?" She sounded nervous which made me smile.
"A little."
"Oh god did I say anything embarrassing?" Her little face was all scrunched up, squinting at me like she didn't really want to know.
"I couldn't really understand what you were saying babe," I lied "You were laughing though."
"Sorry did I wake you?"
"It's fine, it was cute."
"What time is it?"
"I dunno." I sat up to check my phone and Emily rolled onto her back, her arms flopping over her head. And ok I'll admit it. Her breast did some really interesting things when she did that. And I'll admit I couldn't stop looking.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"Time?"
"Oh it's Erm, 5:45" I told her as I finally picked up my phone and looked.
When I turned back she was grinning at me.
"What?"
"Busted ya" she laughed before turning on her side facing me.
"What time are we supposed to be getting up?"
"About an hour."
"Ugh. Sleep?"
"Mhm."
But we didn't.
We talked some more, each on our sides, face to face as the sun started to come up and fill the room with light. My alarm went off and was turned off but still we chatted. We heard Zayn banging around in the kitchen, muttering and murmuring to himself about needing tea. When we heard his shower running Em went quiet for a moment just looking in my eyes.
"We should get ready."
"I don't want to."
"I know. Getting up sucks."
"I want to stay here with you."
Emily looked like she was about to say something but changed her mind. I don't know there was just a flicker in her eyes or something. I could just tell.
"Come on you. Last one to the kitchen makes the coffee." And with that she jumped out the bed, and raced to the door, me chasing after her.

"Morning" Zayn greeted as he came into the living room were I was chomping on some toast.
"Morning mate" I replied as soon as I'd swallowed my mouthful.
"Where's Emily?" Zayn asked as he was playing with his hair in the big mirror over the fireplace.
"Just putting girly crap on her face. She chased me out of my own room when I started playing with her eyeliner. Cheek of her."
I caught Zayn's eye as he was smiling in the mirror and as I smiled back at him I thought about how much happier the house had felt the last couple of mornings. More like home than it had felt in a long while. Maybe it was because the album was finally about to be release and we were less stressed or maybe it was because it had always been three of us in the house. The band of brothers living together. And Emily was here making us three again. But I think its just because Emily was Emily and had us both hooked. Only we were defo closer. I mean I'm the one who got off with her right? And we had shared our secrets.
"We made out last night." I blurted out.
"Shut the fuck up? Really?!" Zayn spun around, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Shit. Why do I do that? I know we'd not said we shouldn't tell anyone but it was nothing and telling Zayn makes it seem like something.
"I was no biggie. We kinda accidentally kissed and then we were making out and then we laughed our heads off. Like I don't fancy her or anything. She's not the type of girl who you hook up with ya know? She's more the mate type, not the type you want to have sex with."
"What are you going on about? Em's sexy as hell." Zayn looked at me like I was retarded.
"Is she?" Was she? I mean I suppose I'd thought about her like that at the radio station but it had been in the abstract. Not about me having sex with her but rather just her and sex.
"Come off it, are you telling me you've not noticed the way she moves? It's like everything she does is foreplay. Then there's that laugh, that filthy giggle of hers. Dude the girl is pure sex."
"Tut Zayn! Don't talk about her like that."
"I fucking knew it! You like her don't you?"
"Course I do. She's sound. So do you."
"Ha that's not what I meant and you know it. You like like her."
"I'm not attracted to her if that's what your saying. She's just a cool girl to be around. I really enjoy her company, she's not like most women we know."
"Now that must be me you're talking about. I'm a one off me. Morning Zayn love, did you sleep well?" She was in the doorway wearing a full length high waist neon pink skirt and a black Nirvana crop top. Her hair was down and wavy and hair makeup very 90's grunge.
"Wow. You look amazing babe." Zayn beat me to complimenting her and I feel over myself to throw one in too,
"I thought you just did rockabilly but you look great Em. This look really suits you. You're gonna be my little fashion guru as well as my coolness guru."
"Shuddup. It's just clothes." She looked happy though. And that made me happy. Really happy.
"What've we got on today then? Oh I've got my radio show tonight by the way, so I'll have to be gone for that. I'll take you out on The Guardian afterwards though."
"Oooooh you taking us somewhere fancy Ellwood?"
"Only if you're a good boy Malik."
They were flirting. The whole surname thing is definite flirtage. What the fuck? I don't like it.
"What about me? Do I have to be a good? Or do you like it better when I'm bad?" It just hung there in the air between us for a few more beats than was comfortable before Emily burst out laughing and hit me upside the head.
"You're such a knob man. I like you just as you are. Good or bad. I like it all."

Chapter Text

I was bored silly. Like inspecting my cuticles bored. The guys had been doing a series of interviews in a hotel room in Claridge's, and it was fun at first. I was listening to their answers and laughing along, but the other journalists kept asking the same bloody questions. It was fucking dull to be honest, although watching Harry flirt with them all was quite entertaining. He flirts his way through life that boy. It would be easy to dismiss him as just a tart with a heart, but anyone who listens to his lyrics, really listens, or spends some time with him would learn he's so much more.
Take this morning in bed. It's like when we're alone we're in this bubble, just me and him and it's safe. We can say anything and it's ok. There is no judgement, just listening and understanding. I've never had anyone I've felt so comfortable sharing myself with so quickly or had anyone feel so comfortable sharing with me so quickly. I can tell him anything. Well almost anything. I censored myself for the first time around him this morning. Twice.

The first was when Harry paid me a compliment.
"I fucking love you Blog Girl. You know that right? I just want you to know that the conversations we've had, the time we spend together means so much to me. I can't believe this ace chick that I admire so fucking much seems to like me too and-"
"You admire me?" I couldn't help but interrupt. And yeah ok I'll admit it, the use of the word admire made me think of the Mr Darcy quote 'You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.' I'm an idiot but I read Pride and Prejudice at 8. That's a very impressionable age. It's not my fault.

"How could anyone not admire you Emily? You're so unapologetically you. I used to have this song about being yourself and being yourself as loud as you can. I've never met anyone who lives that song as much as you do. Who wouldn't admire that?"
I was about to tell him that song is the reason I'm the way I am, but I stopped myself just in time. How could I tell him that without him realising he's band boy? How could he fail to realise after that? I made some silly joke instead and relished his gruff laughter, glowing a little that I did that, that I made him laugh.
The second time I stopped myself speaking was when he told me he wanted to stay in bed with me. It was just the way he said it. Like not just I don't want to get up, or even I just want to stay in bed. It felt more like he was saying he want to stay with me. That me and him and our bubble were all he needed. And I wanted to tell him I wanted to stay with him too. But I couldn't. Because he didn't mean it the way I would've or the way I wanted him to.
Yeah I'll admit that too. I knew when I took this job, when I realised Harry was the person I'd always hoped he would be, that there was a chance that all the feelings I'd had as a teenager would come flooding back. But, I thought, I'm strong, I'm not that insecure kid anymore, I can work around it and stop myself should any of that old emotion come to the surface. Turns out I'm not as strong minded as I thought. We kissed. Can you imagine that? I got to make out with my teenage crush. It was stupid and shouldn't have happened and I know it means nothing but there's a part of me, maybe my inner 16 year old who wants more, who thinks it must mean something? The part of me that is a helpless romantic, the part I hide and deny and over rule with logic. We've built something special me and the guys. Me having a big stupid crush on Harry, who's made it perfectly clear he's not attracted to me, cannot get in the way of that. I won't let it. So I swallowed the words down and raced out of the room, out of the bubble.

"Em?"
"Hmm yeah?"
Zayn laughed at me so obviously being miles away.
"Why don't you get off babe? You've got your show soon yeah? Sorry today was a bust."
"That's ok lovely. I just feel for you two! How long are you still here for?"
"About an hour or so. Text us about dinner, and good luck for the show babes." He blew me a kiss and Harry, who was sulking in the corner on his phone, gave me what can only be described as a guilty little wave. Hmmm he was defo up to something.

I was just about to get in the lift when Harry came bounding down the corridor.
"I didn't want you to go without saying goodbye." He told me breathlessly, out of breath from running. I laughed and gave him a quick hug.
"You really are the sweetest idiot I know."
"And you really are the bestest grownup I know. Enjoy your show, break a leg and I'll be listening so don't be horrible about me."
"I guess I'll try."
"Ha! Love ya babe." He hugged me again, squeezing and pressing against me. It means nothing I kept telling myself, but the longer the hug went on, the more I felt like I was lying to myself. So I gave into it. Relaxed into him and let myself imagine, just for a moment, that he felt this as much as I did. The lift door opened but neither of us moved. They closed and I knew I had to stop this, that it would light a fuse that I was trying so hard not to light.
"I have to go Harry." I said the words, but didn't move.
"I don't want you to. Not yet, let's just say like this for a little longer."
"Ok."
So I stood wrapped in his embrace, my head on his chest listening to the staccato of his heart.

"I'm sorry about last night." His softly spoken words broke the silence.
"That's ok. It was nothing. Just a passing moment of silliness."
"You're a fucking great kisser though Ellwood, I have to say."
"You think I kiss well? You should see what else this mouth can do. Mind blowing." Why oh why did I just say that? I felt the atmosphere change, suddenly becoming charged.
"I bet. Oh man I bet. What about me? Do you like my kisses Emily?"
I should've have looked up, I told myself not to, but it was like I couldn't stop myself. I looked up at him looking down at me with eyes filled with intent.
"I'm not sure I can remember enough to comment."
"Then let's refresh your memory," he brought his lips to mine, pausing only to murmur "there's nothing wrong with a few kisses between friends right?"
"Nothing at all."

It was different this time, no mindlessness, no safety of nighttime. We were both hesitant, taking our time. His hands danced up my spine making me shiver, my body moving against his. It made him moan, a sound that actually made me lose my breath. I forced myself to pull away, "I have to go Harry, I'm going to be late."
"Yeah. Yeah ok." He looked and sounded shellshocked.
"It's ok hon, just a little kiss between friends yeah? And for the record you're an excellent kisser." I kissed his cheek and pressed the lift button. It opened straight away so I stepped in and waved goodbye to a laughing Harry.

As the elevator descended and I steadied my breathing and racing heart my phone started to ring.
"Hey Zayn,"
"Hi, so I came into the hall to see what was taking Harry so long and what should I come across? My dear friends Em and Harold eating face? What the fuck!? What's going on with you two?"
"Oh dude I have no fucking idea what the hell I'm doing. I'm a mess."
"Mhm no argument here."
"Oi!"
"No seriously though, why do you two keep making out? Is it going somewhere?"
"No. You've heard him, he's not interested in me that way."
"Want happened to my little fireball?"
And at that I snapped out of it. What was I thinking getting stressed over a few kisses? Over a boy? That ain't me.
"Thanks Malik, that's exactly what it needed to hear. Love ya man. I'll see you later yeah?"
"Sure just drop us a text. Love you too baby girl."

I was supposed to meet Zayn and Harry for drinks after my show but the traffic was a nightmare (I was just happy the cab, along with dinner was being picked up by The Guardian. I never get cabs in London they're waaaay too expensive) so I text them to say meet at Le Gavoroche where we were eating.
It was like another world. I felt like I had been plucked from my life and placed in some crazy wonderful alternate universe, full of rock stars and fancy hotels and Michelin stared restaurants. The boys seemed to sense my disbelief and excitement and got right into it with me. We we're like kids and the atmosphere was great. We chatted about nothing and everything, savouring the wonderful food and eating from one another's plates.
"Shall we go for a dance after here? Or a cocktail at least?" I asked, feeling happy and content and wanting to prolong the fun.
"I'm game." Zayn smiled.
"Err, I would but I've kinda got a date sorry."
I felt my happiness diminish ever so slightly and my smile falter.

Chapter Text

She fucked like she'd watched porn and thought that that was how real people actually did it. All angry faced, dead eyes and calling me daddy. It wasn't hot, for some reason, instead feeling desperate and counterfeit. I wasn't getting any real sense of enjoyment from her, instead feeling like she was just going through the motions for my benefit.
"Do you want to stop?"
"What, why?"
"Oh nothing I just thought...never mind."
"Don't stop Daddy. Fuck me hard."
I really wish she'd stop calling me Daddy. Like I actually am a dad and it actually kinda freaks me out. I swear it's ruined it for me if Lux ever does call me daddy.
(Oh and sidebar- a word of advice. Never, ever, use the words dirty girl in a sexual situation. Because one day you might just have a daughter. And that daughter will be a baby and will pick up all kinds of crap and put it in her mouth. And you'll say "don't put that in your mouth it's dirty. Dirty. No. Bad. Dirty." And she won't listen and you'll say "don't do that. Dirty girl." And suddenly you'll feel sick. So just don't. Same goes for bad girl. Believe me don't. I asked Lux "have you been a bad girl?" the other day and I remembered saying that to some woman I was sleeping with years ago and I shuddered so hard I thought I was going to loose a limb or something. Which luckily Luxy thought was hilarious but Tom and Lou got it and looked a bit sick too. Until Lou laughed so hard she said a little wee almost came out. The mother of my child ladies and gentlemen.)

I'm starting to think I'm never going to come. I'm just going to be stuck in this bed, banging away at her forever. An infinite never ending time loop of us screwing and neither of us enjoying a second of it. Can a man fake? I could try right? I mean I obviously don't want to offend her or I'd have stopped twenty minutes ago. I could fake.
But I thought back to this morning in bed, of Emily looking at me under her lashes, sizing me up to see if I was taking the piss or something.

"What on earth makes you think that?"
"All women do."
"This one doesn't."
"Are you telling me you've never, not even once?"
"If someone wants to hear me moan and sigh and feel my body tense around them they have to earn it. I have never, nor will I ever, faked an orgasm."
"But what if, right, the guy is shit? You wouldn't want to hurt his feelings by being all 'you didn't earn it' would you?"
"Does that sound like something I'd ever do? No. It's not a guys fault if he doesn't know what I like yet or how to please me specifically. I'd teach him, show him what works for me as opposed to what worked for his ex girlfriend. Or if he's just totally clueless, teach him the basics. The things all men should know. That way if and when we part ways I'm sending him out into the world knowing how to pleasure a woman. I like to think it's service to women everywhere. Has no one ever taught you? Have you never taught anyone how to do you just right? Just how you like?"
I'd wanted to kiss her again when she said 'just right. Just how you like.' But I didn't and it passed. For a little while anyway.

I wouldn't fake. I'm going to take Emily's advice and have my date show me how she wants it, how to make her toes curl.
"Babe, stop hon. Show me. Show what you want." I pulled out and guided her hands towards her centre. "Show me how you do it."
She looked at me with the first genuine look I'd seen from her since we'd ended up in her bed together. She looked confused and embarrassed but I knew how to deal with that.
"Touch yourself for me babe. I want to see just how you like it. I want to get it right and need you to show me. Because I'm not pleasing you and I really want to. I want to make you come babe."

The more I spoke the more her fingers worked herself, hesitantly at first but finding a rhythm.
"Tell me what you like babe, tell me what you think about when you do this alone." I murmured after watching her for a while, the whole time whispering a litany of filth to her. Her hands slowed and her beautiful eyes fluttered open.
"You tell me what you like instead." She was embarrassed again.
"Well I can't babe...my mouth is going to be too busy."
I heard her gasp as my lips connected with her sex, parting so my tongue could dance across her clit. I slid a couple of fingers inside her and felt her tensing and relaxing against me. Her moans were now genuine and heartfelt. Emily had been right. I was making my tongue and fingers do the same things she'd been doing to herself (with a few of my own special moves thrown in of course. She lost her shit when I hummed against her, sending vibrations across her clitoris as my long fingers hooked against her g-spot.) Emily was always right. God I can only imagine what that girl would do to me in bed. Bet she'd get it just right, just how I like.

Emily. Why the fuck was I thinking about Emily at a time like this? I have a beautiful model grinding against my face and I suddenly feel a bit sick. I kissed Em in the hotel earlier and it was just a kiss between mates only it kinda wasn't and now I was fucking another woman less than 12 hours later. That's just not right. But I arranged the date before we'd kissed. So why did I feel so sick? That horrible feeling in your stomach when you know you've been a major tit.

Because I was being a major tit. I do know that, I'm not an idiot. Well not that much of an idiot anyway.
Right the sooner I get this over with the sooner I can just go to sleep and get this shitty day over with. I redoubled my efforts and pretty soon Ms Angry Faced was moaning my name over and over until it became an incoherent gasp.

"Oh my days! Where on earth did you learn how to do that?" She asked, her breasts rising a falling with the exertion of the intense orgasm that had just racked her body.
"You showed me babe." I smiled at her panting form.
"Give me a minute to come back to myself and I'll do you. Or we could...ya know, again?"
"D'ya know what? Don't worry about me, I want tonight to be all about you yeah?" And yeah I felt like a complete dog as soon as I'd said it, as soon as I'd seen the reaction in her eyes these words caused. Fuck I'm a prick.

She was drifting off, her tiny little body feeling so insubstantial in my arms. Why was I here? Why didn't I stay in the restaurant with my friends and go with them for some cocktails and a dance? Truthful answer? Because that kiss by the lifts at Claridge's hadn't just been nothing, it had definitely been something and that scared the shit out of me. Because despite all evidence to the contrary I really didn't fancy Em. So rather than face a potentially awkward as fuck conversation with someone who had come to me a lot to me I did what I do and I ran. Straight in too the arms of my latest distraction.

I woke up the next morning and when I checked the time saw I had texts from Domino and Zayn. They both said basically the same thing. "You need to see twitter."
I opened the app with a frown wondering what crap was going down that they wanted me on twitter.
I soon saw.

@GlamourPussy:
Ok I'm going to admit something to you all. I've never cum with a man before. Until tonight. Thank you @Harry_Styles ;) #winningatlife
The next tweet was a selfie with me asleep next to her 'proof for the haters - me and @Harry_Styles'

I got out of bed and dressed planning on leaving without saying a word to her. I couldn't judge. This time I'd used her just as much as she'd used me. Maybe I had every time.

When I got home I fended off Zayn's concern.
"Really dude I'm fine. I mean I know that one day when Lux googles me that'll show up but it's hardly the worst thing out there about me is it? I'm gonna be fighting all the birds off after they see it too." I joked. Kinda.
"Hmmm. I saw you making out with Emily again yesterday by the way. Real classy bro."
"Yeah. I know. I have no idea how it happened though. Can I talk to you Zee? Like get some advice?"
"Of course love. Do you want a cuppa? Tea and a chat yeah?"
"Thanks mate."

"So, what do you wanna talk about then?" Zayn asked handing me my tea and sitting in his armchair.
"Erm, Emily I guess. Where is she anyway?"
"In my bed."
"You fuck her?" I asked so quickly I didn't even realise I'd said it straight away. What the fuck is wrong with me!?
"Oh man. We weren't sure if you were coming back here or not so Emily didn't want to take your bed. I slept on the sofa. Funny that isn't it? When she stays over in your room you bunk up but when it's me she wanted to take the couch."
I rubbed my eye and ran my hand through my hair, pushing the curls from my face, whilst I gave Zee an apologetic little smile/grimace.
"Mate I'm fucking loosing it. I'm sorry. I keep kissing the chick and I get jealous every time anyone else is with her. Even you. My best fucking mate. And it's not that I fancy her, I know you think I do but really I don't. It's like I don't want her like that but I don't want anyone else to have her either. And it's way more ridiculous than it being because I've got feelings for her or even just straight up wanna fuck her. Its because don't want anyone else to get as close to her as I've become. I'm like a little kid in the the schoolyard worried someone bigger, better and cooler is gonna steal away his new BFF. It's pathetic. I know it is. But- I don't even know how to describe it. She's never told me what to think, she's backed me up even when she knows I'm wrong. She lets me be me. And doesn't make me feel guilty about it. That's why I can't lose her. I've told her so much about myself, about all the dark twisty bits and nasty thoughts and horrid things I've done- stuff I've not even told you or Lou or Liam and she's never turned her face. I feel like I could ring her at three in the morning and say I need help disposing of a body and she'd be there. She wouldn't even make me explain until I was ready. Maybe a 'did you have no other option?' or something like that, but she'd be there. And if know you would too but you're my bandmate ya know? My brother. And I'd do the same for her. I know that all sounds really ridiculous and I've known her no time at all but-"
"To find someone like thats incredible. It doesn't sound ridiculous at all. And I get it, maybe not to that degree but I get. I've told her stuff too man, stuff I've never even admitted to myself let alone anyone else."
"I wish I did fancy her, I really do," I continued, squashing down the jealousy that they were sharing stuff that Zayn hadn't told me, "I know she'd make me happier than I've ever been. I feel like I should and that's why I keep kissing her I think. I want to like her like that, but I just don't."
"Then stop kissing her mate. Because you're going to push her away and loose something that sounds more nurturing and satisfying than 90% of the people we know's relationships."
"Ugh. I might have already. I kissed her and then went and shagged someone else who then tweeted about it to the whole world. You don't do that to a friend."
"You don't. But she's Emily and she doesn't react like other people so go talk to her."
That's exactly what I didn't want to do but Zayn's got a point. And like I said I couldn't lose her.

As I got closer to Zayn's room I heard Close to Me by The Cure getting louder and louder. I knocked but there was no answer so I pushed open the door. And there she was, my friend, dancing in her pants to The Cure. Her back was turned to me and I couldn't help but smile at the face blazoned across her arse. David Bowie. Who wouldn't fall a little bit in love with a chick who wears Ziggy Stardust pants? And as her vest top rode up a little and I saw the black of her Zeppelin tattoos peaking out I was struck anew with how amazing she is. Not just because of all the things I said to Zayn a moment ago, not just how she made me feel but just her and everything about her. The song had changed to Boys Don't Cry when I finally called her name.

She looked over her shoulder, still dancing, and seeing it was me answered with a huge grin. She turned, singing along
"I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies. I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes. 'Cause boys don't cry."
"Boooys dooon't cry," I started joining in, singing as I danced, "I would break down at your feet and beg forgiveness, plead with you. But I know that it's too late and now there's nothing I can do. So I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies. I try to laugh about it hiding the tears in my eyes. 'Cause boys don't cry."

"You ok love?" She asked still dancing so I didn't stop either.
"You saw it then? I'm fine. Honestly."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Nah no need."
"I'm just glad you took my advice." She winked with a chuckle.
"I don't know what you could possibly mean." I replied mock haughtily.
"The girl had never had an orgasm with any other man and no offence but the lass has obviously had more than a few of them. Why would I believe you're the one guy who was magically able to just know what she needed? I refuse to believe you have that much prowess Styles."
"Well-"
"No! Bad Styles. No more looking at me like that. No more kissing. I'm too awesome and you'll fall in love with me and then this beautiful beautiful friendship would be ruined."

God I love this girl. She was letting me off the hook without any big serious convo. What a woman. I started fumbling with my belt.
"What did I just say?"
"Shuddup! I'm dancing in my pants with you. It looks fun."
And she threw her head back and laughed and we did just that for the last song, this time Joy Division.
"You cry out in your sleep. All my failings exposed" I sang to her.
"And there's a taste in my mouth. As desperation takes hold"
"Just that some things so good just can't function no more"
We joined for the final chorus "But love, love will tear us apart again. Love, love will tear us apart again. Love, love will tear us apart again. Love, love will tear us apart again."

"We good?"
"We're great Harry."
"I do love you Em."
"I know. I love you too Harold dearest. Now sshh."

Chapter Text

I chased Harry from Zayn's room so I could finish getting ready. I wasn't looking forward to today at all. I was going to have to ask him about those bloody tweets and the bimbo sending them. Not as his friend but as a journalist and the thought made me feel sick. I hated the thought of doing it but as much as I didn't want to, as much as I was happy to keep the boys secrets, was honoured to, there was not a chance in hell the paper would let me get away with leaving this out. It was not going to be pleasant. Especially after the 'incidents' between me and him. I just hoped that Harry would understand I had no choice but to ask and that we could work out what he should say together. I would be a lot more chill about broaching the subject if it hadn't been for Zayn's reaction earlier this morning.

"You ok love?" He asked as he sat on his bed which I was still in, and handed me a coffee. I could get used to this.
"Sure I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
Zayn sighed and gave me a look that told me he was seeing right through my shit. He'd told me about the tweets earlier.
"C'mon Em. It's me."
"What do you want me to say Zee? That I don't like it? Of course I don't. Hell do you?"
"No. But I think our reasons for not are a fair bit different."
"They really aren't. She's an idiot who he threw himself into for all the wrong reasons. He's making a mistake with the places he's looking for love and it hurts to see because he's a friend."
"Yeah and the rest Emily."
"You obviously don't know me at all if you think me and Harry making out a few times makes me feel all proprietary towards him. This has nothing to do with that. Nothing. She's using him to boost her profile. She's using my wonderful friend who's so vulnerable because women like her keep fucking him over. This is about him. About his heart. About not wanting to see it get bruised again."
Zayn just stared at me as I finished, panting, blood rushing in my ears.
"Sorry."
"Yeah well."
"I didn't mean to-"
"I know. I'm sorry too."
"What are we going to do Em?"
"What can we do? We just need to let it play out and be there when this plays out like it's blatantly going to."
"He's been so different recently, I really thought it was a good thing him looking for more but now...I just don't think he can take another knock like this."
But Harry had come back this morning looking like he didn't have a care in the world. Maybe a bit nervous of me. Which kinda made me chuckle. And really tempted me to wind him up. I would've done but Zayn thinking I was jealous or whatever stopped me. I made it clear to Harry there would be no more smooching instead. His loss right?
"Em? You ready?"
"Coming,"

We were going to a photoshoot for the article and I was super excited to introduce the boys to Niall. At least I would be as soon as I could find my bloody phone and we could leave.
"Someone call my phone please?"
Run With the Boys by Carl Barât came from the direction of my overnight bag.
"Thanks Zayn!"
"That's my ringtone?" he questioned incredulously.
"My little joke." I winked. I'd told Zayn about my almost obsessive ringtone assigning last night at Soho House.
Yeah that's right, I was at Soho House. Zayn tried to sort me a membership now I'm officially part of the media but as soon as I saw the price I cried with laughter. He tried to pay, bless him, but no way was that happening. Anyway ringtones.

"Every time your phone rings it's a different song...how many times a day do you change the bloody thing?"
"I don't. Everyone, well everyone important gets assigned a ringtone that reminds me of them. Like Niall has Teenage Kicks by The Undertones because we meet as teenagers, they're Irish and it reminds me of him. I should've known it'd never last with my most recent ex...he never got one."
"That's really cool! What's mine?"
"Awfully sure you'll have one there Malik!"
"I have though haven't I?
"Of course you do. It's subject to change but at the min you're Vogue."
"Madonna? Fucking Madonna!
"You're just so pretty. What a waste." I sigh with a wink to show I'm just joshing.
"What's Harry's?" He asks, expertly sidestepping my comment.
"Hounds of Love, The Futureheads version."
"Hmmm."
"Fuck off. I've got Liam's number," I broached carefully my voice soft and oh so gentle, "from the paper. I assigned him Faultlines. You wrote it for him right?"
Zayn was quiet for a long moment, unable to make eye contact.
"It's ok dude. It's just me."
"Of course I did."
"It's my favourite on the album. Have you sent Liam a copy yet?"
"No. I can't Em. I'm just not ready."
"Don't leave it too long sweetheart. You don't give up on something so deep, you just don't. My mentor Allan, he's this massive romantic, he'd say when you find the person who makes you feel whole, who makes you realise that you weren't before, you hold on and you never let them go."
"Sounds like a wise bloke."
"He is. Listen to him."

I changed Zayn's ringtone late last night, because I was listening to Carl and it reminded me of him. That's how it works. I find a song that speaks to me about a certain person and then it's theres. Forever.

"Harry this is my roommate, best mate and all round favourite person Niall Horan, Ni this is Harry my new friend."
"Nice to meet you at last mate, I've heard so much about you."
"That's funny, I've heard next to nothing about you. She's not risking losing any exclusives this one."
"Niall! What are you going on about?" I couldn't believe he was being like this! Making out like I was going to fuck them over.
"Its ok sweetheart, I know you'd never tell the stuff I've told you. I'd trust you with my life." Harry whispered in my ear, his breathe blowing at the loose strands of hair tickling me and making me giggle.
"It's rude to whisper."
"Excuse us for a moment Harry. I need a little word with Niall here."
"Shit I know that tone. Good luck bro." Harry mumbled, squeezing Niall's shoulder and making his way to Zayn and the photographer.

"What the actual fuck Ni? Why the hell are you being such a dick?"
"I don't trust him. Look at him, he's an idiot. One of those guys who gets everything handed to him on a plate and has never had a days trouble in his life. He coasts through life without any responsibilities or worry and leaves wreckage in his wake."
I couldn't believe I was hearing this.
"You could not be more wrong Ni, Harry is a wonderful person, a good man and a good friend. Since when did you get so judgemental? It's really unattractive mate."
"I'm not being judgemental just calling it as I see it. Be careful of him, I know his type, he'll be your friend until you've written what he wants and then you'll never hear from him again."
"It's not like that and you're wrong about him. Stop being a bitch. I'm going to go get back to work, I don't want to talk to you anymore right now."
"Em-"
"I mean it Irish, stay away from me today. I'm too angry at you and I don't want to say something I don't mean."

"You ok?" Harry asked running his hand up my arm comfortingly.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I don't know what's got into him."
"You really don't do you?" He asked, head cocked to one side and that little knowing smirk he's got.
"What does that mean?"
"Just for someone normally so astute you're blind when it comes to his motivations."
"I'm so confused. Are you having a go? It kinda sounds like it but it doesn't feel like it."
"Not at all babe. Never."
"Listen, we're gonna have to talk about those tweets. I'm sorry but the paper-"
"It's fine sweetheart, I know you've got to job to do. Help me work out what to say?"
"Of course. Thank you for not making a big deal about it."
"I told you, I'd trust you with my life Emily Ellwood. This is a mere nothing in comparison. I know you."

Chapter Text

So Niall is obviously in love with Em. And he's a bit of a tit. Can't say either of this to her though. She really has no clue he's into her. I wonder if she would.
"You and Ni...have you ever?"
"Ewwww! No! He's like my brother. That's gross."
Ha good. She can do better than him. She's awesome.

The shoot was mostly over, and the drinking had began. These things always end up being a bit of a party. Zayn was off talking to some dude we'd met a few years back and Em was off networking. She was doing brilliantly, drawing people in, in that way she had. I stood watching her, whilst some girl tried to talk to me.
"Hmm what was that?"
"I was just saying about Twitter."
"I'd rather not talk about that sorry."
"Oh no not that, just how it's impacting on people's privacy..."
I tuned her out, much more interested in the good looking guy waving at Emily and making his way towards her. They were close enough that I could hear every word.

"Peter! I didn't know you were working here?"
"I freelance for them, have done for a while actually. I thought I'd mentioned it?"
"I don't think you did babe. I always listened to what you had to say."
"You did. Even when you didn't want to hear it."
Watching their body language, the way the guy is leaning in and touching her arm I'd say he's interested in her. She smiles at him one last time and makes to move away obviously blowing him off. She points over to me and with a little wave walks away from him towards me.
"Who was that?"
"He's a friend." something about the way she says it makes me probe further.
"Friend? What kind of friend?"
"We sleep together sometimes. Or we did. He got a bit," she pauses searching for the right word "intense. They always do."
I watch her, my mind racing.
"Do you have any other 'friends'?" I can just hear the quotation marks clang into place and it makes me wince. But it seems to amuse her.
"No one regular. Why? You volunteering your services Harold?"
I pause for a moment my tongue darting out, raking across my lips. "What if I was?"
"Then I'd say I'll think about it.
"Tsk, what the hell does that mean?"
"It's nothing personal. I just don't-"
"Please don't say you don't fancy me!"
"It's just that. You think far too highly of yourself. I only screw men who can't keep their hands off me, who realise exactly how special I am. Not someone who acts like they'd be doing me a favour. I'm sexy as hell, and dynamite in bed. I do ok, I don't need a sympathy shag thanks all the same."
Shame from her rebuff was making me say stupid stuff so I hurried to correct her.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes you did. You always do."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"You don't fancy me. That's fine-lots of people don't. They just don't feel the need to let me, and everyone around me, know several times a day."
"I don't-"
"Em I wish I fancied you, you're perfect. Blog girl why don't I fancy you? We'd be amazing together, why don't I fancy you? I wish you were my type Emily Ellwood, because you are the coolest person I've ever met. Shit I wish I fancied you. Fuck Em if only I-"
"Ok! Ok. I'm sorry I didn't realise."
"Yeah well."
"Really, I'm sorry."
"It's just you do it so much and frankly you're fooling no one but yourself. You're crazy about me. You're desperate for a go on this."
"I, I, I-"
"I'm joking ya dick. Although..."

Fuck. I fancy Em. I'm 100% totally well and truly batshit crazy about her. Well fuck. Fuckity shit fuck.

"Dude what's up?"
"Nothing." I lied, unable to look her in the eye.
"I was just joking sweetie." She held my arm as she spoke and it burned.
"I know, I'm find honestly, just tired."
"Wanna go home?"
"With you?"
"I'm staying at yours aren't I? You're being very odd Styles. I'll grab Zayn."
"I'll get him."

"So yeah, it's weird but we've gotten used to him not being there anymore. Still miss him every day though. Oh hey Haz."
"Hey, we're going home. You coming?"
"Yeah sure. Nice to see you again Carl."
"What's up?" Zayn asked as we headed back over to Emily.
"I fucking fancy Blog Girl don't I?"
"Yep. A lot."
"Mhm. That's not good is it?"
"Why not? She's awesome and I think she likes you."
"I kinda propositioned her."
"You did not!?!"
"She said she'd think about it. Then no."
"Oh. Good on her."
"Oi!"
"Harry. You're my brother and I love you more than life itself but you're a dick to women and the way you've been around that girl...I think she's just gone up massively in my estimation."
"I didn't mean to."
"I know. And that counts. Doesn't stop it hurting though."

"We ready to roll?"
"Wanna go out?"
"Harry's too tired and I've stuff to write up."
"Cool, spliff and Netflix it is."

The journey back home was unbearable, Zayn got in the front of the Uber can so I'm just in the back with Emily who's a little tiny bit drunk and sprawled out like a cat.
"You're awesome you know Harold."
"Thanks."
"Why're you being all quite? Is it Niall? I can't apologise enough. He's not normally like that I promise."
"I meant what I said earlier. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me Emily."
Her hand came to my cheek and it physically hurt. The longing was like nothing I'd ever felt.
"Then smile! Oh wait you must be missing Lux! Sorrry."
"Yeah that's it." I shamelessly pounced on the excuse. Using my baby as a cover for being like a school boy with a crush and not knowing what to say...I'm going to hell.

When we got back Zayn commandeered the sofa, started rolling a blunt and setting up his laptop. Em set up in the kitchen, making coffee to sober up and setting up her MacBook at the table. The way she moved around the kitchen, knowing where the mugs, coffee beans, the little grinder and cafetier where was strange to watch. Her familiarity was unnerving. It made me think of lazy Sunday mornings making breakfast and doing the crossword, of rolling in from gigs and burning toast. It made me think of a million clichéd things I'd never done with a girlfriend. They'd always struck me as overly domestic and outdated. But the way Em moved around, like she owned the gaff, made me rethink. With her it wouldn't feel that way. With her it would feel right.

I tried watching some Archer with Zayn but I just didn't get it, and I couldn't keep still.
"Have a couple of hits on this man, it'll chill you out a bit."
"Why are you laughing so much though, it's not that funny?"
"Again, have a couple of puffs on this."
"I'm gonna make a tea, want one?"
"I've got some fucking Jaffa Cakes in my coat pocket!"
I swear I've never seen a man so happy.

Emily was still typing away as I pottered around making an appalling cuppa. I was too nervous to let it brew properly. She was absentmindedly running a biro across her lips, occasionally taking it into her mouth. Fuck. Ok this is not cool. How the hell am I supposed to look at that and not imagine my cock doing the same? How? Fuck it.
"Come to bed Emily." It came out before I had time to think it through.
"I just need to finish this thought and then I'll be right through."
"No, I don't mean that. Come to bed with me."

Chapter Text

I stopped typing and looked up at him, my brows pulled together, head cocked to one side.
"What are you going on about Haz?"
"You told me you'd consider us...hooking up I guess is the best way to put it." Whoa ok!
"I, I did tell you that. I was joking Harry."
"I know you think you were but I know there is chemistry here, and I know it's not one sided."
"Har-"
"You wanted me to want you, to not be able to keep my hands off you. Well I can't stop thinking about it, about how well we get on and get each other, about how that would translate to a physical relationship. I want you Em, I've never wanted anyone more."
"Well that's very flattering, thank you."
I waited for a few beats but I could see he was expecting me to continue and the silence became deafening.
"I should go."
"Ah don't do that man. We can forget I ever said anything."
"I dunno..."
"Or we could just fuck."
"G'night Harry."
"Wait. I'm not explaining myself properly. I think about you every waking hour of the day, I dream of you when asleep. You're one of the sexiest women I've ever met. I didn't think that at first I'll admit. But now I see it, now I see you and I don't want to stop or look away. I'm going crazy with it. You want someone who can't keep his hands off you? I ache to get mine on you. All I can see when I close my eyes is you, me, us, a mess of limbs, sweaty and panting, our bodies entwined. I want to be inside you, not only in you in a sexual sense, but I want to crawl in, wrap myself around your heart and live there. Because you're not only the sexiest woman I've ever met but the best, the coolest, the biggest hearted. That's why you're so fucking sexy. It's you. Not your body, not only your body, or your face, but you. Everything about you. And I need us to fuck Em and it's going to happen sooner of later because you feel it too, this crazy intimacy we have and have had since the second we laid eyes on each other. So it might as well be now because why waste time when you just know it's going to be mind blowing? Why wait for the inevitable?"
"Fuck it."
And it happened. Right there on the kitchen table with Zayn in the next room.
As soon as I'd said fuck it, it was like a starter gun going off. We launched at one another, all grabbing and kissing and licking and bitting. His hands were everywhere and mine were no better.
"Jesus Em how many layers does this fucking thing have?" He asked as he tried to get his hands under the netting of my swing dress.
"I'll take it off."
"No that'll take too long. I have to touch you now or I'll die."
He finally got underneath and hooked my pants to one side and felt my wetness.
"Fuck!" Before pushing a finger into me, lifting one of my legs up to get better access. I gasped into his mouth. His fingers were agile and talented.
"Like this?"
"God yes."
"Want you so bad. So hard."
I wanted to touch him, to feel him for myself but it was impossible in our current position. Then another finger was in me, a thumb on my clit and I no longer had any coherent thought.
Harry's hardness was rubbing up against my thigh the one leg I had one the floor was in between his, pushing back against him. I wanted him naked. But not as much as I wanted him inside me.
"In my purse."
He got what I meant and kissing me deeply, rushed to my bag. He tipped its contents out across the tiled flaw, probably breaking my compact but I was in no state to care.
He fell to his knees scrabbling to fine my purse and I was about to remove my panties when he found it with a triumphant "how much crap have you got in this thing?"
"Shut up and fuck me."
He groaned, pulled out the condom and swaggered back to me. There is no other way to describe it. Cocky shit. He looked like sex personified though, his hairline glint with perspiration, his lips red and swollen, a bite mark on his collarbone just peaking through the neckline of his tshirt, his hair falling in his face.
When he got back he attacked my mouth again, hoisting me up onto the tabletop, and together we hiked up my skirt.
He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough for his hard cock to bounce out. I reached for it, wrapping it in my hand, wanting to feel the weight of it in my palm. It was heavy and thick and felt like velveteen. I wanted it in my mouth. I know that when I blew him my jaw would ache, that the hinges of my mouth would be stretched. It was a delicious thought. I ran my thumb across the tip, making him groan, his eyes roll and his head to fall back. I let go and brought the thumb to my mouth, sucking it very deliberately whilst holding his gaze. His hand went to his dick working himself.
"You're so ridiculously hot."
"Thanks. Hurry up and get that on."
He came closer, tearing open the condom wrapper with his teeth.
"Give it here," as soon as he handed it over, I pinched the end and started rolling it on him. He put his fingers in my mouth whilst I did, and I could taste myself on them. He groaned again as I worked his fingers, my cheeks hollowing and my tongue massaging them. He was pulling them out and pushing them further in as I felt his other hand pulling my knickers to the side then him at my entrance. As he plunged in I gasped around them and then they were gone and his mouth was back on me. He held himself steady for a few beats allowing me to adjust to his generous prick. I kissing him with the gusto of a teenager, and his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the table.
Then he started. Fucking into me and pulling out, slowly at first but gaining speed with every thrust. It felt fucking glorious. I hooked my legs around his waist, pulling him into me as far as was possible. The edge of pain was breathtaking. Our kissing had turned into just panting and into one another's mouths.
"Feels so good. So tight Em."
I tightened both my grip on his waist with my legs and my grip on his cock with my pelvic floor muscles. He gasped as I stared to rotate my hips, keeping him all the way in, just grinding against him.
"Shit Emily. I knew you'd be fucking amazing at this."
He picked me up taking me off the table, his strong arms holding me steady, his fingers digging into my skin, as he slammed into me over and over, hitting my G-spot his pubic bone rubbing against my clit. I could feel a tightening in my stomach, the delicious build. His mouth was on my neck, as he sucked and bit and licked. Mumbling 'oh fuck' and 'Emily' over and over until the words started to merge and it became an incoherent gasp.
"Gonna..."
"Me too."
And with that he lifted his head to look me in the eye. We held each other's gaze as we released at the same time, bitting our lips so as to not call out and alert Zayn. As we rode our waves, spurred on by the other Harry's eyes widened and he whispered my name like a benediction.

We flopped against the table, our foreheads resting against each other's as we got our breath back.
"Bedroom. I want to taste you," Harry eventually broke the silence. "I need to get you naked and kiss every inch of you. I need to worship your body."
"You say all the right things Styles."
"That was..."
"Yeah."
And then he kissed me again, this time softly, his fingers trailing across my cheek, his thumb stroking my jawline.
"You look so beautiful when you come. I can see why you make your lovers earn it. I feel privileged to have witnessed it."
I drew a steadying breath and reminded us both not to get carried away.
"Alright Romeo, no need for the lines."
"That so wasn't a line. You're stunning Emily Elwood."
He kissed me again and pulled out and whilst he dealt with the condom I straightened myself out.

"Zayn, I'm off to bed. G'night man." I called as I popped my head around the door, Harry behind me, his hands under my dress again this time kneading my arse cheeks. He was also rubbing against me showing me his appreciation for my bum. He was hardening again and the need I had to get him naked, to explore his body was almost scary. Then again I'd been waiting a long time for this.
"Night babe," Zayn called over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows with a knowing smirk when he took in my disheveled appearance. "Sweet dreams," he winked with a leer. I pulled tongues and blew him a kiss, giggling when Harry wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back. He hoisted me up and threw me over his shoulder, racing to his bedroom.
"Have fun kids, remember no glove no love!" Zayn called.

I was thrown on the bed and Harry stood starring at me for a couple more beats than was comfortable.
"What?"
"I have no fucking idea how I didn't see it. You're so-"
"Stop it. There'll be none of that Styles."
"Yes there will. I've never censored myself around you and I'm not gonna start now. You're so fucking sexy and lying there all dishevelled on my bed you look so...so right. Now let's get you out of those wet clothes."
I laughed but stopped him.
"Put some music on. I don't want to hold back this time."
"Fucking hell."
He picked up and remote and The Libertines filled his room. Then he dived at me.

Chapter Text

I woke and stretched out like a cat, feeling more content than I had in years. Last night had been undoubtedly the best, most fun sex I'd ever had. Filled with laughter and silliness and orgasms so strong it took fifteen minutes for my heart rate and breathing to return to normal. Emily fucked with the sheer joyous abandon of a woman who knows who she is and who's comfortable in her own skin. She had no problem telling me exactly what she wanted, from pulling her hair, holding her down forcefully enough to leave marks and asking me to skull fuck her to asking me to be gentle and slow and screw her whilst looking into her beautiful eyes. Nothing was out of bounds, there was nothing I felt I couldn't at least ask of her. She laughed when she came sometimes and I nearly passed out every single time, the feeling of her body tensing and relaxing as she chuckled felt amazing around my dick. Oh and she's got a filthy mouth on her that one, and had no qualms about asking my fantasies and sharing her own. It was the freest sex I'd ever experienced, and I wanted more. I wanted every night to be like that, filled with sex and orgasms and watching Emily screw her eyes up and pant my name, and laughter and talking until the sun came up. I wanted it all and I wanted all of her.
"Morning' sexy." She purred, her voice raspy and full of morning.
"Morning beautiful."
"Mmmm, I feel great."
"Me too. Better than I have in years. Last night was...just perfect."
"No regrets then?"
"Only that we didn't start doing this earlier."
"We're doing it then are we? It wasn't just a one night spesh?"
"No fucking way! That'd be a crime! When one finds oneself a person one is that compatible with, one has an obligation to fuck at every given opportunity."
She laughed all throaty and hoarse and it made my dick twitch in interest. I have no idea how the little fella was still even capable.
"My throat is ruined, which is 100% your fault."
"Excuse me I seem to remember that particular request was yours?"
"Whatever, it was your cock that did it."
"You sound sexy as fuck actually."
"Sounding like I've got a 40 a day habit is sexy is it? In that case Mr Styles..." She pulled herself up and whispered in my ear, all breathy and raspy, something I absolutely cannot repeat but it made me flip her on to her back, pinning her to the bed.
"You Missy are a minx and a tease."
"It's only a tease if you don't plan on following through."
"You're going to give me a heart attack you sexy sexy woman you." She was naked underneath me and raised her hips to brush against me,
"I can only try Mr Styles."

"Well well well!" The look on Zayn's face was sickeningly triumphant. If I wasn't so thoroughly shagged out not to mention ravenous I may have punched him.
"Yes we screwed. Yes we'll be doing it again. Yes you were right."
"Yes we'll be driving you mental at it all noisily constantly. Or we will if you don't wipe that look off your face."
This is why I love her. Not love her love her, but you know what I mean. Oh shut up.
"Me wipe the look off my face?! You two look disgustingly smug. Way to rub your post shag glow in a brothers face. I don't even want to think about how long it's been since I got any."
"Got a mate for blue balls Malik babe?"
Emily looked at Zayn and the pair burst out laughing.
"I do actually. I'll get you their number Zayn. They're right up your street actually."
"I think I might already have it."
"You might just at that."
"What the hell are you two on about?" I felt a lot less jealous than I had. It was me she wanted. She made that abundantly clear last night if the scratch marks down my back and bite marks littering my body are anything to go by. You don't fuck like that without being into someone. And if she wasn't before there was no way she wasn't after that. She went to the fridge, trailing her fingers across my stomach as she passed, and when she bent over that gorgeous pert bum was visible, her red lace french knickers contrasting beautifully with her creamy skin.
"Your arse is fucking fantastic Elwood."
"Thanks Malik."
"Erm stop looking. That arse is mine."
"Excuse me?!" She span around holding the milk bottle her hand, her brows raised, her eyes all wide.
Oh shit.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes you did. Pack it in. Keep talking like that and the last you'll see of this arse is as it walks out the door," but she winked at me so I didn't take it too seriously. Besides, I could see a couple of finger shaped bruises on her bottom which made me smile. It might not belong to me but I'd certainly left my mark.

"What's happening today?" Emily asked when we'd sat at the table with our toast and coffee.
"We've got today pretty much to ourselves, just a thing tonight." Zayn answered for me.
"A thing?"
"An industry party, held by our label. It to celebrate Arctic Monkeys going a billion times platinum or something like that."
"Cool! Does that mean I get to hang out with Alex Turner again? Because I cannot be responsible for my actions if I'm around him for any length of time with free booze flowing."
Okay maybe I spoke a little too soon about that jealousy thing.
"Yep, but get off with him and I'll have to beat him up and Matt will get involved and he's harrrrd. He may kill me so best not to unless you want my blood on your hands."
"I can make no guarantees. Are you going to see Lux today then if you're free?"
"She's in nursery today until 4, she stays late at this after club thing. She loves it and won't let anyone collect her until it's absolutely over. Drives Tom nuts when he's on school run duty."
"We could do some q&a stuff? Oh god we still need to work out what you're gonna say about those tweets," her cheeks flushed the most beautiful delicate shade of pink. I don't think I'd ever seen her blush before. It was ridiculously attractive.
"That's not going to be at all awkward," Zayn chuckled earning himself a scowl from me and a slap to the back of the head from Emily.
"Can it Malik. I'm a professional and can separate my sex life from my work life. Besides, I'm better in the scratcher than her," she joked. Although the chick ain't wrong.
"How do you know? Harry was being a gentleman and didn't give us any details, she might have been amazing."
"She might have been. I'm more than amazing though. No but seriously not to be that gal but any woman who's not come by her age is a bit crap ain't she? There was nothing stopping her getting on top and getting herself off if she wasn't confident enough to tell her other lovers what to do. Although lack of confidence probably isn't an issue with a woman who's job is getting her boobs out. Not that theirs anything wrong with that, I've done a bit of burlesque in my time."
"Wait, what?" Did she just say what I thought she said?
"What?"
"You can do burlesque?"
"Well yeah, I mean I'm a bit out of practise like but yep."
"You're sooooo doing me a dance."
"Only if you do one for me," she challenged with a grin.
"You've got yourself a deal. It'll be the best lap dance you've ever seen."
"Ugh! You two are gross!"
Emily got up to clear all our plates but I pulled her down on to my lap, nuzzling into her neck as she giggled. We we're both hamming it up a bit to annoy Zayn and I loved that she was going along with it without having to be told. With the usual calibre of girls I date that would go straight over their heads. They just wouldn't have got it. It was really nice fooling around with a girl who wasn't a bimbo.
"That's it, I'm done. If you need me I'll be in my bathroom throwing up."
"You're always welcome to join us Malik!" Emily called after him, "oh my god your face! Harry I'm not going to sleep with your band mate."
"You're not going to sleep with anyone."
"Ha! We've spent one night together and you think that gives you some kind of claim on me?"
"I mean it Emily, I don't share. I appear to have a jealous streak a mile long when it comes to you, and I won't put myself through the head-wreck of knowing you're with other men." It took a lot for me to say that, it was hard to lay myself like that and be so honest not only to her but to myself. She seemed to realise what it had cost me, because she didn't reply right away.
"I don't want to sleep with anyone else. All I ask is the same in return," she eventually responded.
"I don't want anyone else either so that that's fine with me." I was feeling ridiculously happy and I suddenly get what Zayn was talking about. I was as smug as fuck.
"Back to bed Styles?"
"I can't, it'll drop off, I'm gonna need at least twelve hours and two proper meals before we can go again."
She pouted at me,
"I might pop to see Alan in that case."
"Who's Alan?"
"My mentor and second father. You might know him actually? Alan McGee?"
"Shut the fuck up!!!" Alan is a legend in the music world. He was a talented musician, writer, manager and he'd set up Indie record label Creation Records, signed oasis, then sold it to Sony for over $30million, managed The Jesus and Mary Chain, Primal Scream, discovered and managed The Libertines and Carl's next band Dirty Pretty Things.
The man was a genius and had the 'NME godlike genius award' from '95 to prove it. And my Emily was his prodigy. He'd kind of withdrawn from the scene a few years ago and no one knew why.
"Can I come? I'd love to meet him."
"Yeah he'd be thrilled, he adores you guys."
"Shut up! Oh my god this is turning into the best 24 hours ever."
"Stop being all cute. It's very hard not to jump on you when you say things like that."
"I guess we could try for a quicky before we get ready..."
"Hmmm, as long as it's not just because you're excited about Al," she teased as I chased her back the bedroom.

"If he offers you anything say no. He'll tell you it's coke but it's actually just some really mean speed, it's all he can get his hands on these days. The women who come in to do for him have given up on trying to stop him."
She took out a key and opened the red door we'd stopped in front of.

"There's my gorgeous girl. I thought you weren't coming this week?" Alan spoke as Emily kissed his cheek.
"My friend wanted to meet you. And of course I couldn't keep away. Alan this is Harry, Harry this is my very dear friend and mentor the legendary Alan McGee."
I took a step towards Alan, my hand outstretched, feeling like a kid meeting this behemoth of the music industry. He eyed me steadily taking both my hands in his.
"Want a drink? I've some good whisky." I glanced at Emily who nodded with a laugh, "Or I've some blow if you'd like?" It sounded even more illicit in his thick Glaswegian accent.
"Whisky's good for me thanks."
"Emily pour us a dram."
"Yes boss," she winked at me and left the room.
"I know you. You're Styles right? Had that song?"
"That's me sir."
"I caught you at The Night and Day a few years back. You were bloody good, I meant to come over and tell you but I had to meet someone, your set overran by about 45 minuets."
"Ahh they always did, whenever we tried to stop, the crowd would go nuts and demand we repeat them all again."
"Emily tells me this new album has got that magic back. Good for you."
"Thank you Sir."
"Knock that Sir shite off, call me Alan."
"Then thank you Alan."

We'd say drinking whisky and chatting about music, Alan telling some amazing story's about oasis and the libs that had tears rolling down my cheeks. Em had obviously heard most of them before, but she smiled and laughed along indulgently anyway.
"You'll be writing my biography before you know it Emily."
"We have this deal, once I've built my craft and earned my stripes I get to write Al's biography. It's been his incentive for me over the last couple of years," she explained for my benefit.
"Speaking of which, I'll take you out for a slap up meal when you get the byline but we should have some bubbles now. There should be a bottle or two in the fridge. Go check for us will you love?"
"You're out you old reprobate!" She called through from the kitchen.
"There's money in the draw, run out and get a couple of magnums."
"Ok. Play nice with Harry. Ignore him if he tries to play my dad and bully you."
"Haha will do. I can go if you want?"
"You will not, I'm enjoying having an audience who's not already heard my tales."
"Okay okay," I held my hands up in defeat. "I'll see you out Em," I had to kiss her before she went, I was a little bit squiffy from all the whisky and laughing, and was more than a little drunk on her too, on how she held herself and on her concern for Alan, the indulgent smiles she threw him when he laughed at his own admittedly hilarious stories. And on the fact she was without the doubt the best women I'd ever had the good fortune to meet.

"Treat her well Harry." Alan said as soon as I was back in the sitting room.
"Its not like that Alan."
"My arse it isn't. You can't take your eyes off the girl, and who could blame you? A woman like our Em, she comes along but once in a lifetime. If you're lucky. Did she tell you how we came to be so close?"
I shook my head and leaned forward to listen better.
"My Maggie, my Emily really, my once in a lifetime woman, she had early onset Alzheimer's. I watched everything about the woman I looked too to tell me who I am disappear and I fell apart whilst watching. Em was taking a class I was guest lecturing at on music journalism and she noticed. Came to the house every day cleaned, did Maggie's hair and makeup, read Wolfe and Plath to her, talked about music and writing with me, made sure we both ate, helped me prepare for a life without my reason for living. I can never repay her for that. When Mags was all but gone only Emily could get through to her, could get her to eat. She practically moved in, so she could calm Mags down when she woke in the middle of the night, not knowing where or who she was. I remember I'd had to go to some appointment, a support group Em made me go to and when I came back Maggie was all dressed up. They were dancing and singing in the kitchen, Bowie they were listening to whilst baking. Mags was laughing, really laughing, making her look twenty years younger and she turned to me and said 'John my love it's been too long.' It was the first time she'd recognised me in months. We had a beautiful night, sitting in the garden, a beautiful British summers evening, drinking wine and telling Emily about gigs and friends and how we met. Maggie fell asleep and never woke up. Em arranged the funeral, took care of me, has been doing ever since really. Two women have saved me in life, I owe Emily everything. I'd give her every pound I have, and I've a lot of them but she refuses to take a penny, is determined to make her own way in the world. That book deal we have? Those are her rules, I'd be happy for her to write it now.
You look at her like I looked at my Maggie, like she's the centre of your universe, like you can't believe you get to be in the same world as someone as wondrous as she. So don't tell me it's not like that, because you're fooling no one but yourself son."
"I only met her five days ago!"
"I knew my Maggie was the reason I was put on this earth within 24 hours of knowing her. Time is irrelevant when your soul recognises it's mate."
"That's beautiful, but it's not like that with us. It's just not." I was kind of lying but I didn't mean it the same way he did so it was just easier.
"Haha, don't be blind kid. Tell me why her?" He questioned.
"I don't know what you mean?"
"Why pick her out of that press conference? Is that something you normally do?"
"I've never done it." I shrugged.
"So why her?"
"I dunno. I guess she was just different to the usual type of people in those things."
"What you've never seen someone dressed a bit out there at one?"
"No I have but-"
"There was something special about Emily. How long did it take you decide to single her out?"
"Seconds. It was like...you know when you're writing a song? How sometimes it just comes to you and words flow like they've always been in you but you never knew? And the melody, it's almost like it's playing you? And you know this is the song you'll be remembered for because it's just right? The idea was fully formed before you'd even thought it? It was like that. I just knew it was a great idea. That it was the right thing to do."
"That my friend is your soul recognising it's met it's mate. The rest of you is just taking longer to catch on."
I couldn't thinking blah blah blah. Whatever mate. But I felt I needed to explain, that he deserved a response after he'd shared with me about Maggie.
"I think you're right Alan. I think it was my soul recognising someone who would make my life better, would make me happier than I've been in a long time, who I could trust with my secrets and fears. I think it was recognising a once in a lifetime friend." I said emphasising the last word.
"Oh son you just don't get it do you? Tell me do you believe in 'the one'?"
"Yes. Absolutely. You and Mags are proof of that." I had zero doubt that he had found his the one.
"Then what the hell more do you want than what you've just described? Because to me, someone who makes your life better, happier, who you can trust implicitly and is a once in a lifetime, a best friend? That's the one. You seem like an intelligent kid but you're being a fucking idiot if you don't see that."
"I like her. I'm nuts about her, I'd like to be with her. Hell I love her. But I'm not in love with her. I'm just not."
"You'll learn. Just hope it's not too late."