{re-uploaded and edited from - [06] kshaw • bliss}

|| ship; kshaw

|| warnings; smut. lots of smut

|| words; 3.4k

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Anyone who knows JJ and Harry, especially those who are unfortunate enough to live with them, know that they have a lot of sex. And that is not a statement to be taken lightly.

They've been caught by most of their friends at least once, and by their flatmates, a good few times. So much so, that it's considered odd within the group if you haven't seen Harry and JJ going at it. The Cal's and Simon are far more accustomed with seeing their friend's naked bodies intertwined in various places than they perhaps would like to be.

While sex may not be the absolute most important thing in their relationship, it is high up on the list. For both of them. JJ thinks it's key in some senses, as a way to be close with Harry, and help them release tension. To feel good. However they decide to go about it.

While JJ does love any chance he gets to have Harry naked on his sheets, there's a few particular favourite scenarios.

He thinks there's nothing compared to the sight of Harry when he wants it. The way he bites his lower lip, and looks up at JJ through long, almost feminine eyelashes. A brief moment of innocence, compared to what's to come. Because as soon as JJ sees that look, that damned look, he knows Harry's going to let him have it. Have him.

Ruin him, because no matter how they go about sex, slow and gentle are not words that often come up in the vocabulary they might use to describe it.

They never have been, really. Even since the start.

They'd been drunk their first time. On a night when they were staying away; a hotel in Greece. A lads holiday. JJ wishes he could have remembered it better. Because all he managed to maintain from that evening, was hazy memories of sweat, teeth and bare skin.

None of these exactly delicate things.

He could tell as much from the state of Harry the next morning that their night was far from a gentle and tame. Woke up before him, looking down to see Harry cuddled up with him.

Naked.

With deep purple hickeys and bite marks littering what he could see of the younger's neck, collar bones, and chest. Ruffled hair, and slightly parted lips that were somehow still red and sore looking from how roughly they'd gone at it.

He remembers laying there, and admiring Harry as the sun came up. Ignoring the pounding headache and slight nausea his hangover had brought along. Ignoring it all, and just focusing on watching Harry's hair turn bright and shiny as it caught the early morning sun through the blinds that they must have forgotten to close the night before.

Forgotten, or just didn't care enough about it to think that far ahead.

It didn't take long for Harry to stir, and come to his senses. Panicking, because he couldn't remember what had happened, or how he ended up sore and covered in bruises, in bed with his best mate.

JJ managed to calm him down enough for them to talk it out. Confess their now undeniable feelings towards each other.

And give them time to have another round of sex.

Actually, that morning might be one of the only times they weren't rough.

It was slow, and careful, since JJ knew Harry was still incredibly sore from the night before. And because he was uncertain; wasn't pumped up on adrenaline and alcohol like the last time (or times, as JJ likes to think, because he's almost certain that they fucked more than once that night).

He was there. In the moment. With Harry. Enjoying the feeling of palms on skin. The feeling of passion, radiated between them. The feeling of lips coming together, and creating a beautiful melody, as if they were made just for each other. Nobody else. Nobody, JJ thought, who had come before, or would come after, will feel as good as Harry did.

And so, instead of coming out of JJ's hotel room for a walk of shame, it was more like a walk of pride. Strutting down to the food hall, hand in hand, huge, shit-eating grins plastered on both of their faces.

Walking up to their friend's table.

Well, limping in Harry's case.

And watching expressions change from confusion to pride as each of them figure out what happened.

Then enduring all of the questions, playful remarks and congratulations that are spoken throughout breakfast. And the rest of the day. And the rest of the holiday.

Really, the teasing, jokes and banter have never stopped since.

JJ knows Harry secretly enjoys the attention he gets from it. From walking into a room with a slight limp, covered in hickeys that he's poorly attempted to hide with a hoodie or some concealer. Their friends will comment, wolf whistle or just roll their eyes.

Whatever it is they do, Harry tries to hide that he likes the attention, by blushing, pushing his face into his hands or into JJ's chest. But JJ knows well enough that what he's really trying to hide is a smug grin.

Knows that Harry enjoys the attention almost as much as the sex itself.

The key word in that sentence being 'almost'.

In their most common scenario, after Harry has given JJ 'the look', JJ will pick Harry up by the thighs, and take him straight to the bedroom. Whichever one of theirs (or their friends' bedrooms, which has happened on a couple of occasions) is closest.

Harry wraps his legs so tightly around JJ's hips, yet kisses JJ's neck so softly along the way, in a teasing manner, knowing full well how it makes JJ's breath catch in his throat, and his knees weak. JJ then lays Harry carefully back onto the bed, the most gentle thing that will happen for the rest of the night.

And then, as he's kneeling above him, he'll look Harry in the eyes. Searching for any sign that this isn't what he wants.

Never once has he seen fear or regret. Not a single time.

Once JJ has cleared that up, he takes control. Leaning down and kissing Harry hungrily, a mess of tongue, teeth, and hot breaths fanning over each others lips. JJ will take his time undressing Harry, starting from the top, and working his way down.

Practised. Efficient.

Kissing along flushed, sensitive skin, and drawing moans from the boy who is pinned beneath him. Knows exactly which spots to let his kisses linger on, where to brush his tongue lightly over, and to gently graze with his teeth. All to get the best reactions from his lover.

Because he's got it down to a science now. Not even a science, an art. And one that he's been glad to learn, if it means he's rewarded with the one thing he wants, and cherishes most of all.

Harry.

It's only once Harry is undressed, laying naked on the sheets, and begging for it that JJ has to give in. Needs to. He can't refrain himself any more.

Removing his own clothes in record time, so he doesn't leave Harry unattended, and aching for it for too long. Discards the probably expensive garments straight into messy heaps on the floor in his haste. Because that doesn't matter. Only Harry matters, the boy who's lay there impatiently, pleading for JJ to just hurry up and fuck him.

JJ nudges his legs apart, coming to rest between them. Not taking the time to prep Harry, since neither of them could wait that long. And Harry prefers it this way. Just generously coating himself in lube, and then pushing in slowly. Loving the moans and pants Harry lets out as JJ is filling him. Stretching him nearly to his limits. He really is a beautiful sight.

Even though that's a somewhat standard evening for them, JJ still fucking loves it. Loves every little thing he can possibly get from Harry.

But sometimes, the nights when they get a little more adventurous take the top spot.

A little known fact, but one that JJ is now very familiar with, is that sometimes, when he's in the right mood, Harry is a kinky little fucker. It's rare when they're both feeling like going that extra mile, but JJ always savours it when it happens.

It's that dark look he gives JJ, a smirk gifted to him by the devil himself, the lust that fills his dilated pupils. Similar to the look that JJ would usually get, but it's also so different. It's how JJ knows he's going to be allowed to take ruining Harry to an entirely different level.

Allowed to bruise him. Truly have his way with him, without fear of hurting him. Because as Harry has told him so many times, pain is pleasure.

Everything on those nights is about the feeling in the moment. Neither caring how tired (and in Harry's case, sore) they will be the next morning.

JJ gets to hear Harry moaning and whimpering his name, while bound tightly beneath him. Hands held with sturdy metal cuffs to the bed frame, and JJ's bandanna used as a blindfold, covering Harry's beautiful, lust-filled eyes.

Because, of course.

It just makes sense really. The idea of Harry with his bandanna makes it even hotter. It adds an extra element of possession, seeing Harry wear something that so blatantly belongs to JJ, while they're fucking.

The harsh sound of slaps occasionally ringing out in the room between breathless moans. JJ learned that Harry likes to be hit, to have his beautiful pale skin reddened, since he says it's intensifies the feeling of, well, everything.

JJ's strong hands wrapping around Harry's throat, cutting off his air almost completely, and enjoying the higher pitched whines it draws from shiny, cherry red lips. Sucking marks into his chest that will go dark purple by the next morning, dragging teeth roughly over soft, sensitive skin. Taking Harry's nipples into his mouth, purely for the reaction of Harry arching his back beautifully, trying desperately to get closer to JJ.

They would continue like that for as long as they could, each in a silent competition to outlast the other. A competition that JJ would always win, but only by a fraction.

Because eventually, Harry would get to the point where he can't handle JJ's lips and hands dragging over his body anymore.

And when he get to that point, he'll be begging for release. In a trance almost, the only thing on his mind is his want. His need. Saying things he wouldn't usually, offering up just about anything to finally be allowed to finish.

And once Harry gets into that headspace, JJ knows they have just under thirty seconds left.

He tells Harry to call his name, scream it so loud the neighbours would know who he was. And then wraps a hand around Harry's aching cock, pumping it quickly until he flies over the edge. Moans rising in volume and pitch as he comes undone, his body shaking erratically from the pleasure he feels.

JJ comes just from the sight of Harry, wrecked beneath him, flushed, hickey covered chest rising and falling rapidly, small whines and pants falling from his lips. He finishes buried deep inside his lover, resting his head on Harry's shoulder, and groaning lowly. And then once he's done, he pulls out, and collapses on top of Harry.

The two of them would lay there for what felt like hours afterwards, hot and sweaty, coming down from the high. Lips and fingers trailing lazily over skin. Until JJ finds the energy to sit up, and uncuff Harry, also removing his bandanna. Harry slowly opens his eyes, and gazes up at JJ, looking fucked out of his mind. Tired as well.

They don't bother cleaning up more than just towelling themselves off a bit, before lying straight back down, and going to sleep. Curled up in each other's embrace.

JJ can never get over the sight of Harry after those nights. He thinks Harry looks fucking beautiful like it. Bruised wrists, tried eyes, a slight limp, hickeys all over his neck, chest and stomach, with a massive grin plastered on his face whenever someone mentions these facts.

But in all honesty. There's one way of having it where JJ just can't get the event out of his head for weeks after. It'll replay in his day-dreams, and plague his mind at night, so that he'll wake up sweating, and ridiculously turned on.

Because sometimes, it's Harry who likes to take control.

And JJ thinks it's the hottest fucking thing in the world. It's so different. Seeing his usually submissive boyfriend - the one who loves being told how he wants it, and manhandled by JJ - take a stance of dominance in the situation.

And do it so damn well. Make JJ feel good beyond belief. Because if that's not what heaven is for him, he doesn't know what it could be.

-

"Oh my God, Harry," he pants breathlessly, as Harry pushes him roughly down onto the sofa in his flat, sitting in his lap and marking up his neck, with far more tongue and teeth than is really necessary. "How come you're this riled up?"

"Because you look so damn hot," Harry says, warm breath against JJ's skin making him shiver. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

"Please do, baby," JJ murmurs, pulling Harry with a hand on the back of his neck for a kiss. It's hot, desperate almost. Messy, but their mouths still manage to move in sync, and JJ swears he could get lost in this feeling.

The feeling of Harry.

He notices Harry start to move slowly against him, lewd almost as he rolls his hips down, bringing breathy moans from both of them.

JJ can't keep track of the thoughts wildly racing through his mind, too caught up within the pleasure he feels from Harry's hands on him.

Lays back and allows Harry to do what he likes, to pull off his shirt, running pleasantly cool palms down his bare torso. Fingers slightly spread as Harry's hands run down his chest, and then his stomach, creating goosebumps where they roam.

Then watches awestruck as Harry pulls his own shirt over his head, showcasing his beautiful body. He's been going to the gym seriously, and it's really paid off. He now has less of his normal, soft appearance that he usually gains when he doesn't work out, now with some tone to his chest and stomach, and more defined arms.

JJ's allows his gaze to wander down to Harry's v-line, unable to stop looking.

They're both out of their remaining clothes in no time at all, since Harry had a lot to say in the matter. And he is often impatient about these things.

Very impatient.

So Harry now sits on top of JJ, looking confident, with an almost regal air about the normally anxious and self conscious man. Working himself open with two fingers, and a bottle of lube he's got from God knows where. Putting on one hell of a show for JJ.

Letting moans and needy whines roll off his tongue as he fingers himself, moving his whole body in order to get deeper. It's unbearably hot in the room, from all of the want and electricity that's coming off the pair in waves. And really, it's only just dawned on JJ exactly where they are, and what they're doing.

Harry's about to ride him. On the sofa, in his living room. In front of the massive window that shows off the view of London's skyline, bathed in the orange and pink light from the currently setting sun. Either of Harry's flatmates could come home, at any point. But that somehow just makes it even more exciting to JJ. The risk adds to everything he's feeling already.

He's shaken out of that train of thought, by Harry brushing the tip of his length against this entrance. JJ can't help but moan at the pleasant feeling, as Harry slowly inches down his cock, engulfing him in the tight heat, and looking like he's in pure ecstasy.

Like he couldn't be anywhere better, even if he tried for all eternity to find a place. Nothing could compare to his seat in JJ's lap.

JJ thinks he may well have died and gone to heaven.

He tries to reach out and grip Harry's hips lightly, but the younger swats his hands away, not interested in JJ's attempt to support him. Resting his own palms on JJ's shoulders, and staring to move. JJ, awestruck, watching the muscles in Harry's thighs tighten and flex as he moves, while his fingers dig lightly into JJ's chest. Moans pouring from his mouth, sweeter than honey, but still so sinful.

He loves it. Loves it more than anything.

Harry leans down to kiss him slowly, lips working smoothly against his, only a hint of roughness. They didn't need to be rough really, to display the passion they both felt. Breathing the same air did that just fine. Intoxicated by each other's scents, high off the euphoric pleasure they both felt, and drunk off each other's lips.

That was enough.

"Fuck, Harry," JJ groans, his lips still brushing Harry's slightly due to the close proximity. "You're so good to me, baby."

He can hear Harry's moans beginning to rise in pitch slightly, and his grip on his shoulders tightening. Telltale signs, that he knows all too well. He knows Harry is close. Coiled, ready to let go as soon as JJ gives him the go ahead. JJ can sense his own release nearing too, reaching out to hold Harry's waist. This time he allows it.

"JJ, I'm so close," Harry pants, reconnecting their lips for a series of brief, breathless kisses.

"Let go for me baby," JJ coaxes, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs over Harry's smooth skin.

Beautiful is what he is, when he finally releases. Eyes closed delicately, with a vivid flush that goes all the way from high on his cheekbones, down to the base of his neck. Lips bright red and swollen, parted as he lets out a low moan. Finishing on JJ's stomach, but JJ finds he doesn't mind it all that much.

He reaches his high only seconds later, when Harry's muscles tighten around him involuntarily. It's ridiculous, impossible almost, the amount of pleasure he gets from it. Harry doesn't pull off though, slowly rocking his hips, and letting JJ paint his insides white. Which feels incredible. For both of them, JJ assumes, from the face that Harry makes, and the little whimper he lets out.

After that, Harry collapses forwards onto JJ's chest, completely blissed-out. Both of them panting heavily, and relishing in the dying waves of pleasure they're still experiencing as they come down a bit. JJ likes these moments almost as much as the sex that came before them. He loves holding Harry close, both of them tired and happy. Carefree.

And after JJ drags a blanket from the back of the sofa over them, that's how they fall asleep.

-

Lux and Freezy come home from their evening out at about eleven. Both content, full of good food and just enough alcohol.

But, are confused when they find the door unlocked, and the flat dark. All the lights, just haven't been switched on. And then find out why.

Harry and JJ cuddled up on the sofa together, wrapped in a thin blanket, and quite clearly wearing nothing beneath it, since their clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor. Harry's head nuzzled under JJ's chin, and JJ snoring contentedly.

"I thought we told them not to fuck on the sofa any more," Freezy mutters, looking a little irritated. He glances over to his companion, hoping for him to agree, so they can wake up Harry and JJ. Give them a piece of their minds.

But instead finds Lux just smiling softly at the pair.

"I reckon we let them off this time," Lux murmurs, and Freezy sighs at how easily the other is won over. Even if JJ and Harry did look quite cute.

"You're gone soft in your old age, man," Freezy snorts, and Lux shushes him, before ushering him quickly out of the room.

"Be quiet, you lanky fuck."

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a.n: and there we have it!

the first in the re-uploaded series!

hope y'all enjoyed, i'm actually so happy with how this turned out! even if i didn't expect to add an extra 1.2k words...

oh well lmao

see you in the next chapter lads

~ Oscar