Awkward Answers

“It’s rather personal,” the interviewer says, looking at the boys a little awkwardly as he laughs and reads out a randomly selected question. “When was the first time you slept with someone?”

“Fifteen,” Harry says easily.

“Seventeen,” Liam answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Eighteen,” Louis says.

“Sixteen,” Zayn says.

“Uh,” Niall shifts uncomfortably, thinking how awkward of a question this is. “Eighteen,” he says, because it seems like a good number.

With that the interview continues without incident, because really that question shouldn’t be such a big deal. Even though Niall feels awkward and uncomfortable for the rest of it, and he wonders if he should have even answered in the first place. Maybe he should have made some little joke about it instead, saying he didn’t kiss and tell.

He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts and concerns about it, that he doesn’t answer any other question for the rest of the interview.

He doesn’t say many words to the others either as they leave the conference room and make their way back up to their individual hotel rooms. He opens his door and flops down on his bed, wincing as he once again remembers the very awkward question.

Moments later, there’s a soft rapping at his door.

He sighs, not really wanting to talk to any of the others but not wanting to ignore them either. After all, he isn’t really about to let on that something is wrong, because then they would ask. And then he’d end up telling them, which was awkward. Even though they’re all so close, and being boys they’ve talked about those sorts of things before, Niall has never actually told any of them the truth. He’s just laughed along with any of their stories, making it seem as though he knows what he was talking about.

When in reality he knows nothing.

He grudgingly gets off the bed and puts on his best Niall-esque grin as he opens the door. “Hey Harry,” he says, almost a little too brightly.

Harry just looks at him oddly as he steps into the room and sits down on Niall’s bed. “So what was all that about then?”

Niall raises his eyebrow and pretends to act as though he’s completely clueless. Because Harry can’t know that he’d lied – could he? Niall takes a bit of a breath – he’s probably just being paranoid.


“Eighteen,” Harry says, looking at him. Niall feels his heart jump in his chest because he’d been foolish to think that none of them would have caught on. He should have said sixteen!

“Yeah?” Niall shrugs, as though it really is no big deal. Because it isn’t.

“It’s weird, because I feel like you would have told us when it happened,” Harry muses, putting his chin in his hands as though he’s thinking about the weather or something far less embarrassing.

Niall just shrugs.

“I thought you’d shagged Holly,” Harry says, looking up at Niall.

Niall shrugs again. “I didn’t,” he says simply because, well, he hadn’t.

“So who’d you do it with, then?” Harry asks curiously. “Because you never told us! I told you when I banged Caroline,” he laughs.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Harry, you tell us when you bang anyone.”

“Yeah,” he says cheekily, looking quite proud of himself. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I…” Niall starts, his mind racing through the different girls they knew, trying to come up with one that he could have conceivably had sex with, but the search just turns up blank. There’s no one, and Niall figures that if there had been someone he could have done it with, well, he probably would have.

Because at nineteen he’s beginning to get sick of all this.

“You’ve never done it, have you?” Harry interrupts Niall’s worried thoughts with the confirmation of all his anxiety.

“No,” Niall says awkwardly, looking at the ground. “Shut up.”

“What?” Harry asks him easily. “It’s not a big deal, really. So you’ve never shagged a girl. You could change that pretty easily. There’s loads of girls begging for it everywhere we go.”

“It’s not the same,” Niall mutters. “I’d have to, you know, know them.”

“Okay,” Harry says, still shrugging. “But it’s not like you’ve never… I mean you’ve done other stuff, right?”

Niall’s sure his face is as red as the awful carpet of the hotel. He sits down next to Harry, thinking that if he had to have this conversation with any of the boys, Harry’s probably the best. After all, he’s the most sexually open, the one who doesn’t see the big deal of it all.

“I kissed Holly and made out with her and stuff,” Niall mutters, looking down at his feet.

“What?” Harry asks, raising his eyebrow. “You’ve never even… the only person who’s touched your dick is you?”

“Shut up, Harry,” Niall says, putting his head in his hands. He can’t even stand to look at Harry what with how blunt he’s being about the whole thing.

“I could help you with that,” Harry suggests easily, shrugging his shoulders and touching Niall’s back ever so slightly.

“What?!” Niall asks, his head shooting up from its resting place in his hands. “I’m not gay, Harry!”

Harry shrugs, not noticing or caring about Niall’s sudden outburst. “I didn’t say you were. I just said that I could help you. You said that you’d have to know someone, and you know me.”

Niall can actually already feel himself getting slightly hard at the mere mention that Harry would be willing to do anything sexual with him, because he’s waited so long, and he really just wants to know what it’s like to have some kind of sexual experience with another person that isn’t making out awkwardly in his girlfriend’s parent’s basement while they watched TV upstairs.

“I…” Niall says, thinking that he should probably deny Harry, but also not really wanting to.

So he just goes for it, leaning in and kissing Harry’s plump lips and taking in his scent.

“Wow,” Harry says in between soft kisses. “I didn’t actually expect you to agree.”

“Shut up,” Niall mutters, shuffling in so he’s sitting closer to Harry and kissing him with more force.

“Hey,” Harry says, putting his hand on Niall’s cheek and looking at him with intensity. The type of intensity that only his green eyes are capable of. “Let me do this.” He strokes Niall’s cheek and leans in to kiss him again, but softer and gentler this time.

Niall sighs, feeling so awkward but so turned on that it doesn’t actually matter. He wraps his arms around Harry, feeling his heart speed up in his chest, and he wonders if that’s the reason for all his blood moving so quickly to his crotch, because he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard and his jeans are starting to become a burden already.

Harry opens his eyes and glances down at the bulge in his friend’s jeans, moving his hand off Niall’s face and sliding it up his thigh. He’s not going to do this without a little bit of teasing, even though he knows Niall’s probably been waiting for a moment like this since he was thirteen years old.

Niall squeezes his eyes shut and silently begs for Harry to touch him as he keeps kissing his friend. This should be more awkward, but it’s not really, and Niall really is beginning to think that Harry’s done this before. Or he simply doesn’t give a shit that they’re both boys because he really wants to help him out.

For that, Niall is grateful, because had he confessed this to Liam or anyone else they’d have just looked at him a little awkwardly and told him to pick up a girl.

Not that he doesn’t want to pick up a girl, he certainly does. Or at least get to know and fall in love with one and then maybe be comfortable with her. But with Harry, at least he was already comfortable and – oh.

Niall forgets everything he’s thinking about as Harry’s hand palms his erection through his pants. His breath gets shallower and he finds it hard to concentrate on anything but the dizzying pleasure his friend’s hard hand is giving him. “Ugh,” Niall manages to get out, Harry’s passionate kisses still lingering on his mouth.

“It’s good?” Harry asks, still stroking him up and down. “Make it easier if you took those off, yeah?”

Yeah, Niall definitely agrees with that. He doesn’t really want to push Harry’s hand away, but he knows it’s necessary to move further. So, regretfully he touches Harry’s hand and moves it off of him. As quick as he can he unzips his jeans and wiggles out of them, tossing them on the floor.

Harry slides up further on the bed and motions for Niall to join him. Niall does so, and in no time the two of them are kissing again, Niall’s small frame snuggled up close to Harry’s slightly larger one.

Harry takes his hand and dips it inside Niall’s boxers, again touching the hot skin of his thigh with the back of his hand. The side of his fingers brush against his dick ever so slightly and Niall gasps, not expecting that at all but needing more of it.

Harry pushes Niall’s boxers down to reveal his cock, flushed and hard and leaking precome from the tip. He smiles a little, dragging his thumb over the slit and using that to slightly lubricate his hand.

Then he wraps his fingers around him and starts to pump ever so slightly.

“Ugh, Harry,” Niall moans involuntarily. He knows he’s probably going to be embarrassed when this is all over, but he can hardly concentrate on any of that with Harry’s expert hand working his dick.

“Yeah Nialler,” Harry says breathlessly, nibbling at Niall’s earlobe and twisting his hand a little. “What do you want?”

“Ugh,” Niall groans, bucking his hips up slightly. “Faster.”

Harry obliges, pumping his hand easily up and down and squeezing just a little when he gets to the tip. Niall moans, unsure how the hell he’s gone so long without someone else’s hand at least touching him, because it’s so fucking good and he doesn’t even have to do anything but lay there and take it.

But then he thinks he probably should, so he reaches over and tries to grab Harry, but Harry swats him away.

“All about you, babe,” Harry mutters huskily, and if it’s possible it turns Niall on even more.

“Ugh,” Niall moans again as Harry leans over and plants a soft kiss on his neck. He licks and nips and sucks at his skin just enough to get it hot and sensitive but Niall can hardly concentrate on anything but the blinding pleasure burning in his cock as Harry strokes him.

“Fuck, Harry, I,” he chokes out, feeling all of the anticipation and pleasure start to build up in his dick. “I… Fuck.”

He comes into Harry’s hand, his eyelashes fluttering and his bottom lip in between his teeth. He sighs easily as Harry lets him ride out his first ever non-self orgasm.

“Oh God,” he breathes out, still laying on his back and incapable of doing anything else, really.

Harry pulls his hand away, leaning over to grab some tissues from the side table to start to clean them up. He looks over at Niall. His hair is a mess and his face is red, but at least he doesn’t look as awkward and hopeless as he had earlier.

“Good?” Harry asks him, tossing him a couple of tissues after wiping off his hand.

“Yeah,” Niall continues to breathe, looking up at Harry with half closed and fulfilled eyes. “Good.”


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