Login with:

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Google

Yahoo

Aol.

Mibba

Your info will not be visible on the site. After logging in for the first time you'll be able to choose your display name.

Unrequitedly, Bryce

Quatre

Anonymous asked: Do you like the boys’ girlfriends?

A different city every night was a really great way to spice up my life. I’d only been on tour a few days and already I was enjoying nightlife amongst celebrities and the endless string of hot guys that vied for my attention because of aforementioned celebrities.

It turns out that Perrie/Prairie was only on tour for a few days because she was in a band of her own. I thought I was up to date on my pop culture (especially when it came to One Direction) but I guess it’s true that you learn something new every day.

So with Perrie/Prairie leaving to rejoin her own band of people who probably also had weird names, she and Zayn were saying goodbye in all sorts of ways.

There was the traditional let’s-spend-the-day-together goodbye. There was also the we’ll-see-each-other-soon-don’t-be-too-upset goodbye. And then there was the more modern goodbye.

This goodbye was not what I would call my favorite. No amount of loud music, ear covering, or white noise could drown out the fact that they were having really loud sex about a yard away from me on the other side of the wall. I was lying on my back, my eyes so tired that I had to keep them open wide because even blinking hurt. Why Zayn would insist on going three rounds (and counting!) with man-voiced Perrie/Prairie is beyond me, but I was over it.

I knew Harry’s room was on the other side of mine (I was between two man whores, it made for great sleep) so I was sure he could hear it too. I fished around my comforter for my phone, which was almost dead because I had been using it to play music and unsuccessfully drone them put. I texted Harry (who didn’t have a girl with him because we didn’t go out after the show) and asked, Are you awake?

Even if he had been sleeping I wasn’t opposed to waking him up so I didn’t have to endure this on my own. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed with his smart reply: No.

Do you hear this racket? I texted back.

Perrie/Prairie let out a long moan, calling out the names of deities and her boyfriend, and how she very much agreed with whatever they were doing to her. And I was so over it.

With Perrie/Prairie’s shouting came Harry’s response: Oh God, Zayn, YES.

I stifled a giggle because I didn’t want the couple on the other side of the thin walls to hear me. If they could hear me then they would figure out that we (‘we’ being Harry, the rest of the floor, and I) could hear them, and that would ruin their fun. And I knew how much fun sex could be if you were doing it right (which, apparently, they were).

They’re on the other side of the wall from me. I can hear them breathing. I said.

Come over then ;) he said.

I rolled my eyes. Harry and I had agreed days ago that we weren’t going to sleep together anymore, but he never ceased the flirting. Ménage à trios? I asked. Because, even though we didn’t go out, I wasn’t going to put it past Harry to have met a girl between the lobby and his hotel room.

Faire l'amour xx

I spoke French fluently. Despite the fact that it seemed as though the only thing Harry knew how to say was “Hello, my name is Harry and I go to the cinema with my family and friends” I was a good enough wingman to teach him what he could use on girls. “Faire l'amour” literally meant “to make love.”

You would say that. I replied.

His response was immediate: Because it works every time.

And he was right: I had been getting up when I received the text. Not because I wanted to make love, but because I wanted company. Unlock your door so I don’t awkwardly have to stand in the hall. I said.

He didn’t reply, but the door was unlocked when I arrived. I closed it softly behind me and crossed my arms, remembering that I wasn’t wearing a bra because I was in my pajamas. “Harry,” I whispered loudly, keeping in mind that the neighbors could probably hear whatever we said in normal tones. Also it was so quiet that speaking loudly would just feel awkward.

“I’m here," he whispered back. But it was so dark that the only thing I could see was the faint glow of his phone, which was upside down on the nightstand.

I stumbled over suitcases and clothes until I reached the bed. Harry’s eyes were better adjusted than mine, so he placed a hand on my hip when I was close enough and guided me along. Another manly moan sounded from Zayn and Prairie’s room, but no names were used and I honestly couldn’t tell who it was emitted from.

“This is so weird,” he whispered, referring to the fact that we were practically witnesses to a porno.

I got underneath his blanket, chilled from the removal from my own bed. “I think we’re supposed to think it’s cute. But if we’re being honest it’s a little disgusting.”

“Not that,” he said. This was precisely the time of night that things that weren’t normally shared came out and the deepest of feelings and secrets were revealed. I had my fingers crossed and was graciously awarded, “They aren’t even dating.”

“Oh, breakup sex then?” If that was the case, I was still over it. But how great would it be to announce the Zerrie breakup before anyone else? My blog had enough followers that it would spread like wildfire.

“No,” he clarified, “Publicity sex.”

To say I was confused was an understatement. I knew some of One Directions dirt (obviously; I had slept with one of the members on more than one occasion), but this was new. “What do you mean?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“They’re dating for publicity,” he said. I had understood that part, so thankfully he continued, “After she won X Factor, our management teams had them date for publicity—she actually kind of had a thing for Niall.”

Shocked, my mouth fell open. But I was more of an amused-shocked than a shocked-shocked. Once I had recovered, I realized that it was Harry telling me this and it wasn’t uncommon for one of us to feed the other lies just because it was something they wanted to hear. “You’re lying,” I said flatly.

“I’m not!” He said, laughing. Even if he had been, he would have come out with it.

I shoved his chest teasingly, “Fuck you. Prairie has a thing for Niall and she gets to date Zayn? I’m your best friend and I have a thing for Niall—why can’t I date Zayn?” Niall may have been my favorite, but honestly, have you fucking seen Zayn? Plus, he was totally my type: tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious. Unf.

Harry yawned; the more tired he got, the more dirt came out. “He’s getting paid.” I felt him roll over onto his back, “Simon told him to date Perrie to get publicity for Little Mix.”

“What’s a Little Mix?” I asked. I needed to get my pop culture down/spend more time on Tumblr.

“Perrie’s band,” he clarified. “He gets paid to date Perrie, but he can also hookup with any girl he wants because he’s really single.”

I took this into consideration. This information was honestly pure gold, and it made me feel even more empowered when it came to my place in the whole One Direction situation. However, I was tired and feeling a little loopy, so none of it really sank in. “Like your good old friend Brycey,” I implied. I mean, if Harry wanted to set me up with one of his band mates, I wouldn’t be opposed. They’re all beautiful.

No,” he said flatly.

“Whatever. I still don’t believe you.” Even though Harry’s explanation of the publicity stunt made sense (in all honesty I probably would have never known about Perrie/Prairie/Little Mix if it weren’t for the fact that she was dating Zayn) but I wasn’t buying it until I could see for myself. “What about the other boys?”

He shook his head, “No, those are real—Eleanor and Danielle are coming around tomorrow, you’ll get to see them again.”

“Super,” I said sarcastically. I had only met Danielle a few times and the only thing we said to each other were greetings. As for Eleanor…I liked her as much as I liked Louis. Which was not a lot.

The moaning and groaning had died down, but I was afraid to go back to my room and be alone because I knew I would have sexual nightmares. Luckily, Harry knew me like the back of his hand and spoke up, “You can sleep here if you want to.”

“Thanks,” I said. I rolled over onto my side and got comfortable, “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight,” he said. He hesitated for a second, “Hey Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna have sex?”

Goodnight, Harry.”
---

The next day, Harry’s makeup artist, Lou (who liked me unlike nearly everyone else on Harry’s team) let me help her do the boys’ makeup and pick out their clothes for their concert. We had gone to the same fashion school in London, so obviously we were hitting it off. Plus it wasn’t like picking out clothes/doing guy makeup was hard, so no one could get mad at me because I wouldn’t fuck anything up.

Eleanor and Danielle were backstage in the dressing room with us as we did this. I was dressing Harry because he was an asshole and wouldn’t let me go near Niall or Zayn, and Danielle and Eleanor were professional jealous hoverers.

I had been trying to pick out a shirt/jacket combination for him when something caught my eye. “Okay, I know you guys like to play pranks on each other,” I said, holding up an outfit to his torso but not really looking at him, “But what the hell did you put in Liam’s pants?” Danielle was sort of blocking my sight, but I knew for sure something was in his athletic shorts that didn’t belong.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed and he leaned around me a little to look, “Nothing.”

My jaw dropped and I quickly picked it up, “You mean that’s his…He just tucks it right?”

He shrugged, “I guess.”

Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed, “How does Danielle deal with that?” I was honestly worried for her safety. That thing was like the length of my forearm—it didn’t seem possible.

Harry didn’t seem amused. At all. “I don’t know. She’s kind of a bitch.”

I overlooked the bitch comment because I couldn’t stop staring. His penis was hypnotizing, “Hell, I would be too if I had to have that thing rammed into me. She must have been terrible in a past life.”

“Hey,” he snapped lowly, “Drop it.”

But I couldn’t. “Liam is such a big kid at heart,” I said. I couldn’t get over it, “A big, big kid.”

“Hey!” Harry said again.

I looked at him, confused as to why he was so angry, “What?”

“Can we not talk about Liam’s penis?”

A reasonable request, but I wasn’t having it. “Excuse me, but if any part of your penis has been inside of me, you are obligated to talk about what I want to.” He made a face, and then I realized: “He’s bigger than you!” Oh, Harold. Petty jealousy won’t get you far in life.

Bryce,” he snapped, “Knock it off.”

“Oh my God, Danielle is walking over here,” I said, fast and nervous. “What if she heard us?”

Us?” he spat. “You.”

But I didn’t have time to freak out, since I put on my best happy face and turned away from an irritated Harry to Danielle, whom I didn’t believe was a bitch. “Hey, girl!” she said happily, giving me a girl hug—you know, the kind where you only put your upper body into it so you don’t wrinkle your clothes. I didn’t know how she could be happy when all she had to look forward to was her reunion with Liam and his giant package.

Actually, I take that back.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you again,” I said cheerfully.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I love your outfit.”

I was wearing this major raspberry skirt and black sweater. It would have worked better if I was a brunette, but putting my hair in a bun would do in times of emergency. “Thanks!” I said excitedly. Fashion was my one true love. “It’s Proenza Schouler—their new fall line is to die for.” I glanced at Harry, who looked lost because he only knew popular designers (see: Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton, etc.)

She looked surprised, “Oh, you’re into fashion? I would have never guessed.”

And then I understood what Harry had meant by “kind of a bitch.” I would normally never have noticed because her tone was cheery and her face looked genuine, but “I would have never guessed” was girl for “you usually dress kind of shitty.”

But aside from the fact that I worked at a pet store and blogged in my free time, I was actually quite accomplished in the world of fashion. If I was hotter and had the body, I would totally go into modeling just to work with all of the designers.

I smiled at her, “Yep.”

Harry jumped in because he knew I knew about the “kind of a bitch” thing now. “Actually, Bryce was very well considered to work for British Vogue—her portfolio just didn’t arrive in time.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Danielle said. She glanced back and Liam, “I’ll see you after the show, okay?”

“Okay, great,” I said, smiling broadly. I turned on the balls of my feet and looked at Harry, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I told you,” he said, shrugging.

I had finally decided on the top half of Harry’s outfit, “If they ever break up,” I said, referring to Danielle and Liam, “Can you please set me up with Liam?” And his monster dick. I had a thing for black guys, and I was fairly certain that Liam was secretly black.

“No,” he said immediately. He took the shirt from me, “What happened to Niall? Or Zayn?”

I shrugged, “I’m not picky, you can choose.”

As he escaped into the bathroom to change (because, despite the fact that he had the body of a God, he was shy), Eleanor walked over to me. “Hi,” she said enthusiastically. We kissed on both cheeks, “How have you been?”

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Eleanor, it was just that I didn’t like Eleanor. To me, she was one of those people that annoyed me no matter what she did. She could be sweet to me, or say something funny, but none of that would matter just because it was her. She was just one my rivals for unexplainable reasons. I even liked Harry’s girlfriends more than Eleanor—and Harry had terrible girlfriends.

“Great,” I said brightly. “And you?”

“Great,” she parroted.

I smiled.

She smiled.

I could feel Harry’s body behind me and looked up to him (he would forever be taller than me, no matter how high of heels I wore) and he smiled at Eleanor, knowing that I wasn’t her biggest fan. The only thing Eleanor had going for her was that she was 1. gorgeous and 2. had great style. And I hated her for that.

“Hey, El,” Harry said, “Do you mind if I talk to Bryce for a sec?”

“Sure,” she said. Oh, thank God.

“Nice,” I whispered when she was out of earshot.

Paul, the tour manager, poked his head in, “You’re needed on the risers.”

Harry took my shoulders and pulled me closer to him, kissing my cheek, “Let’s hang out after the show,” he said, “Just you and me.”

I raised my eyebrows, because the last time Harry and I had quality time was…I couldn’t even remember. “Okay?” I asked uncertainly.

He made a face, “I know, it’s been a while. But seriously, just you and me.”

When he left I pulled out my phone and checked my blog because I didn’t want to have to talk with Danielle and Eleanor. I answered a few questions before posting about my upcoming night full of fun with Harry.

I knew better than to get overexcited, but I was really looking forward to spending time with my best friend. There was Harry Styles, member of world-famous boy band One Direction, and then there was Harry Styles, awkward cheeky boy from Cheshire. And I wanted the latter again.

---

I didn’t know how we ended up doing what we were doing.

With both of our adrenaline pumping, the rushing blood always caused a serious problem that only few could understand. Harry was hot and sweaty and pumped up from the performance, and his mood was infectious.

It wasn’t so bad to solve it with each other—it felt better that way.

When I had noticed his little ‘problem,’ I was initially alarmed, especially by my sporadic offer to help him out. He was reluctant, especially because just days ago we had agreed that enough was enough, but it only caused us to climb in bed faster. He opened his mouth to object because he knew how against it I was, but when I began palming him he stopped himself.

I had realized that it could be completely casual between us. There was no romance—just the deep brewing need for release.

And afterwards, we agreed on just that.

“This won’t be like the movies,” I said, “Where one of us falls in love.”

“Of course not,” he agreed. “Friends with benefits: nothing more, nothing less.”

“Just sex,” I said, holding my pinky out to him.

He wrapped his pinky around min, “Just sex.”

Notes

I'm really glad to see that you're liking the story so far! Thanks for all of the comments! :)

Comments

When will you update next?
Omg update really good! Hopefully they are more than friends with benefits well just sex......! Update!!! Lol if she wants Liam who has the biggest, why does she also want Niall, who has the smallest... Lol but update update update!!!
This is one of my fav stories! I just keeps gettibg better and better :)
I love this.... This is going to sound weird but when ever I read the summary -which I love btw!!!- I always said it in like a poshy accent haha lol
Yay can't wait for more i love this story!