Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1613855.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band), Radio_1_RPF
  Relationship:
      Nick_Grimshaw/Harry_Styles
  Character:
      Nick_Grimshaw, Harry_Styles, Aimee_Phillips
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Bands_&_Groupies
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-14 Words: 2929
****** Take me through the back door ******
by tsurakutemo
Summary
     Brash Heaps is the new cool thing. Harry was introduced to them by
     Zayn, who's always out there listening to anything no one else have
     heard of. And if there's one thing Brash Heaps are more known for
     than their so-bad-it's-good kind of music it's their fondness of
     groupies.
     Or, Nick's in a band and Harry is a first-time groupie.
Notes
     This fic is set in the 80's and Nick's 25 while Harry's 17 so I've
     put up an underage warning even though he's legal in England, where
     this fic takes place.
     This is all fiction. Nick is not in a band with Aimee Phillips and
     Matt Fincham (who goes unnamed but is the third band member mentioned
     in the fic) and if he ever were to be he would probably not call his
     band Brash Heaps.
See the end of the work for more notes
Harry hunches in on himself in the cold, waiting outside the venue with a
handful of other people. He hasn't been standing here long, but he isn't
wearing much underneath his jacket, just a mesh shirt and the tightest ripped
jeans he could find last minute. He's been uncertain if he should dare to do
this, but decided in the last five minutes before he had to go that it's worth
it, even if nothing happens.
Brash Heaps is the new cool thing. Harry was introduced to them by Zayn, who's
always out there listening to anything no one else have heard of. And if
there's one thing Brash Heaps are more known for than their so-bad-it's-good
kind of music it's their fondness of groupies.
Even now there are two girls next to him whispering about it.
“My sister's friend's cousin said they're into threesomes.”
“No way, d'you think?”
Harry tunes them out. He doesn't think that's true, anyway. If the rumours are
right, only two of the three band members are into the whole groupie thing, and
he doubts they do threesomes together. He doesn't know anyone who do
threesomes, and Louis talks about sex a lot. Sex he's had, sex other people
have had, all of it.
He shakes himself out of his thoughts when the doors open and they're ushered
inside. He honestly has no idea how this works, just waits with nervous
anticipation.
And then he's there, Harry's favourite and also his biggest wank fantasy.
Nick Grimshaw looks a lot better in real life than he does in the pictures, and
that says a lot when he already looks amazing in the magazines Harry's seen him
in. He's tall, and his hair had been done up for the show but is now a mess,
only more so when Nick runs his hand through it. He's still sweaty, and Harry
silently begs his legs to keep him upright because they're suddenly like jelly.
Nick looks them over, and it's all Harry can do to keep himself still when his
eyes land on him. He wants to drown and wax poetically about him at the same
time and he's never known himself to be this much of a mess. He tricks himself
into believing that it's the sudden change from the cold autumn weather outside
and the warmth in here, and not at all from something else. Certainly not from
his semi, which he carefully manages to cover with his jacket, hopefully sneaky
enough about it that no one notices.
From the quirk of Nick's lips, however, he's probably failed.
He doesn't even notice that the other girls and boys are gone before a female
voice speaks up.
“Well, aren't you a cutie?”
He startles because there's a sudden shock of orange hair and sharp, bright
blue nails in his face. He gapes up at Aimee, who has his chin between two
fingers and is tilting his head up, inspecting him. She's intimidating enough
at a distance, but now that she's so close he doesn't know what to do other
than stare and wait.
“Leave him be, Aims,” Nick says, and she pulls back to give Nick a knowing
look.
“Already bagged him, have ya?”
Nick grins. “Maybe.”
Harry isn't sure what he should think about them talking about him like this,
but it sends a small thrill up his spine, and he doesn't know what to make of
that. He didn't come here for Aimee, and he thanks his mum and his friends and
the heavens that Nick saw him first. He wouldn't say no to Aimee either, to be
fair, because Aimee is gorgeous, but he wants Nick more.
Aimee merely shrugs and says “suit yourself” and leaves, probably to find one
of the other ones who'd come hoping to get lucky and be able to brag about the
fact that they'd fucked someone from Brash Heaps. Harry doesn't mind that at
all, because now he and Nick are alone, and Nick's looking him up and down with
appraising eyes.
“Come on then,” he says and takes Harry's hand.
Harry's not taken far, only down the hallway and around a corner. Nick opens a
door and Harry thinks it might be their dressing room. It's got a worn down
sofa and some clothes here and there. There aren't any windows, and Nick locks
the door and leads him to the sofa.
“So, how old are you?” he asks.
“Seventeen,” Harry blurts, and promptly covers his face because the shows they
put on are 18 and above shows and he's just ruined everything.
Nick– laughs. Harry stares at him in confusion, and Nick collects himself and
shakes his head. “Who hooked you up?” he asked, and Harry rubs his nose, a
little embarrassed.
“Just a mate.”
“Just a mate, huh?” Nick repeats, but shrugs and sits down, pats the seat next
to him. Harry sits down, still confused, because he's heard the stories and
he's still expecting Nick to get him naked and press him down against the couch
and fuck him until he can't walk. Maybe he wants Harry to relax first? He has
no clue.
“So you were at the gig? Did you like it?”
“Yeah.” Harry nods. “It was good. You're- you're good. I like your voice a
lot.”
Nick merely snorts at him.
“There's a reason I do backup vocals and only very, very rarely, you don't have
to lie. We'll still have sex if you tell me you think I'm terrible.”
“I don't, though,” Harry says without thinking. “You're really good. Uhm.
You're good at playing the guitar? You're good with your hands.”
He doesn't know what he's saying anymore, feels like he wants to sink into the
ground. Nick laughs again, and it's a nice sound. Harry hopes he gets to hear
it a lot before this is over.
“I do try,” he says, with a cocky raise of an eyebrow that Harry definitely
can't do. The next second he's smiling at him, and Harry finds himself smiling
back on auto-pilot. Nick's got that air about him, and he likes it.
“You done this before?” Nick asks him next, and Harry frowns.
“The... groupie thing?”
“Sex with guys,” Nick clarifies, “but yeah, I guess that, too.”
“I've had sex with boys before,” Harry answers. “Well, like. I've tried? It
wasn't very good, but I can do a lot better.”
Nick merely makes a noncommitical sound and kisses him.
Harry sits frozen for a second, hurries to kiss back, and makes a small noise
in protest when Nick pulls back. “Relax,” he says, voice almost gentle. “You
don't need to kiss me like you're gonna die if you don't.”
“Sorry,” Harry mutters, feeling his cheeks heat up. God, he's gotta look like
such a kid, Nick probably won't even have sex with him when he knows Harry's
this useless.
Nick kicks his boots off and makes Harry do the same with his shoes, and then
ushers him off the sofa so that he can stretch out on it. “C'mere,” he says and
holds his arms out, and Harry carefully makes his way back, hovers on top of
him and tries to figure out what this is all about and how this can be
comfortable for Nick who is probably getting crushed beneath him. Nick doesn't
protest or anything, just wraps his arms around Harry and pulls him flush
against him.
“Better?” he asks.
Harry nods, because it is more comfortable and he's really, really close to
Nick right now and oh god, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's the
most useless groupie in history.
Nick kisses him again and Harry remembers what he said and kisses back, slower,
bites down on Nick's lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. He's not a bad
kisser, or so he's been told, and he wants to prove this. Wants to blow Nick
away with his mouth skills, both figuratively and literally, if he can.
Nick takes control of the kiss pretty soon, bites down on Harry's lip until it
stings, kissing him deep and hot and  good  and Harry trembles, his dick
stirring again, enough that Nick can probably feel it. A mark is sucked onto
his neck next, and Nick pulls back and blows cool air over it, makes Harry
shudder and gasp quietly.
“So you can prove this happened to your friends.” he says. Harry wants to
protest and say he won't brag about this, even though he probably will a little
bit, but Nick kisses him again and it effectively stops him from doing much of
anything but kiss him back.
They part with a few more pecks and Nick runs his hand down his back and to his
arse, grabs a handful and squeezes. Harry jumps, hips bucking against Nick's,
and Nick lets out the most delicious moan Harry's ever heard and spreads his
legs so Harry can settle between them.
He's already embarrassingly hard and he knows Nick can feel it, as proven when
he cups Harry's ass and pulls him down, jerks his hips up at the same time so
they're mostly lined up through their jeans and it sends a bolt of electricity
through him. The next jerk of his hips is more his own doing, the friction
really good.
He ruts somewhat clumsily against Nick's leg, and Nick seems more than happy to
for a moment, but then pushes him up and away so that he can get his jeans off.
He's not wearing anything underneath.
Harry stares, because suddenly there's a dick there and he wasn't expecting
that so soon. Nick takes himself in hand and smirks again, only a tiny hint of
strain in his expression.
“I know it's great, you don't have to go on about it.” he says and Harry gapes
at him, before shoving half-heartedly at his leg.
“Shut up.” he mutters and looks back down. He wets his lips, because he wants
that in his mouth. A lot.
“C'n I–” He pauses, not sure how to word it.
Nick's kind, though, and puts him out of his misery. “You wanna suck me off?
Put that lovely mouth on me?” Harry nods, cheeks burning, chewing on his lips.
“Yeah.”
“Sure. Get your clothes off first, though.”
He continues to stroke himself as Harry strips naked, and Harry gets distracted
more than once, looking at him. His own dick slaps against his stomach when he
pulls his pants down, already wet at the tip because  god  he just wants Nick
a lot  right now, and Nick seems fascinated even though he's probably seen way
more dicks in his lifetime than Harry has.
Harry makes to kneel on the floor in front of the sofa, but Nick stops him.
“That won't be good on your knees,” he says. Harry doesn't particularly care.
“It's fine,” he dismisses, but is careful when he settles down. Nick sits up
properly, legs wide so Harry can crawl between them and get a good position.
Nick's prick is hard and bigger than any other Harry's touched before, and he's
slightly anxious about that fact. He wants to be as good as he can, but that
might be a problem.
“Go slow.” Nick advises. Harry nods and takes a deep breath, and puts his hands
on Nick's thighs. Nick continues to stroke himself until Harry licks across the
head.
“Jesus,” he mutters then, and lets his hands fall away. Harry takes him in his
own hand instead and continues licking across the head until he gets bolder and
takes the tip into his mouth.
He suckles and listens to Nick's breathing going heavier. A hand settles in his
hair, but doesn't pull, fingertips just lightly rubbing across his scalp. It's
nice and helps him focus, and he sucks harder. When he takes him a little
deeper, Nick groans.
“Jesus, but you've got a mouth.” he murmurs. Harry preens as much as he can
with a cock in his mouth and focuses on getting it as wet as possible, spit
dripping down the shaft for him to spread with his hand.
His own cock throbs insistently, and he pulls off when his free hand falls to
it, gasps against Nick's thigh as he gives himself a stroke. Pre-come is making
his hand all sticky and he should be embarrassed that he's getting this wet but
he can't find it in himself to be bothered. Instead he goes back down on Nick
and hollows his cheeks as he sucks and runs his tongue all over the head and as
much as he can take of him without setting off his gag reflex, and Nick's
making the hottest appreciative noises Harry's ever heard.
He strokes himself again and then gets a little distracted doing that, pulling
off and moaning.
“C'mere,” Nick says, voice rough as though he's the one who's been sucking
someone off, and helps Harry get into his lap.
Harry sprawls more than settles elegantly, and Nick snorts, but helps him right
himself.
“It's as though you're the one who's been getting sucked off,” he comments as
he takes Harry's dick in his hand and sets a steady pace, grip tight but not
enough to hurt.
“Uh huh,” Harry gasps, panting against his shoulder, and thrust his hips up,
fucking into Nick's fist.
He presses kisses everywhere he can reach of Nick's shoulder, sloppy and god,
he feels so  filthy  for some reason, can't entirely pinpoint why.
Nick rubs his thumb across the head, focuses on the slit and it's like a punch
to the gut, electricity shooting right through him. He's vaguely aware that
he's keening, voice high and thready, and Nick kisses him  hard  and gives
three, four more strokes. Harry nearly shakes apart as he comes, hides his face
in Nick's neck and gasps like he's dying. Nick soothes him by stroking his
sweaty back with his free hand, and Harry vaguely manages to think that the
older man's got the best self-control out of any he's met.
He's barely coherent when he feels Nick hoist him out of his lap and spread him
out on his front on the couch. Harry's probably getting come on the upholstery
and he doesn't know how easy that's to wash away, but all of that's forgotten
when he feels Nick settle across the back of his thighs.
Harry makes a confused noise, hearing the slick noise of him jerking off.
“You're not gonna fuck me?” he gets out, feeling somewhere between relieved and
disappointed.
“No,” Nick answers, voice slightly strained, and spreads Harry's cheeks as much
as he can with his free hand. “Not this time.”
Harry can't really decipher what that means before Nick's groaning, long and
loud, and he feels thick streaks of come splatter hot across his ass and over
his hole, dripping over his balls. He moans and clenches automatically, his
dick giving a small twitch in interest. He knows he can get hard again, but he
doesn't think Nick's up for that.
They're silent for a long while as they both calm down. Sweat's starting to dry
on Harry's skin and it's a little itchy, but he can't be bothered to do
anything about it.
Nick gets up and lets Harry get himself together while he gets dressed. Harry
makes to move eventually, but Nick stops him.
“Hang on a minute, stay like that.”
Harry does, although he's confused, and he jumps when Nick's hand lands on his
bum. “Don't move.” Nick warns, and then he feels the strangest sensation over
his skin.
“Are you– are you writing on my arse?” Harry asks, astonished, and turns his
head to see Nick grin, focused as he puts his signature on the swell of one
cheek.
“Yep,” he says, happy with himself as he caps the marker. “Don't put your pants
on or it'll smudge.”
Nick is the weirdest person Harry has met.
He's utterly delighted with this fact.
Nick sits down on the free part of the sofa and pulls his boots back on,
fumbles in the pockets of his jeans until he finds his pack of cigarettes and a
lighter. Harry focuses on trying to see the autograph on his backside while
Nick smokes, but doesn't quite manage.
“It's probably mostly dried,” Nick tells him eventually. “You should get
dressed. Gotta get going soon.”
Harry nods and gets up. While he locates his clothing and works them back on,
he can't help but feel a bit like he's overstayed his welcome. By the time he's
finally ready to go, Nick's done smoking and is waiting by the door. Harry
walks over, a little embarrassed again now that it's all over.
“Can you find your way to the door from here?” Nick asks when he lets them both
into the hall.
Harry nods. “Yeah, course.”
He looks up and Nick's smiling at him.
“You should come see us again when we're back in town,” he says. “Say hello,
and all that.”
Harry merely looks at him for a long moment, slightly bewildered. Nick wants to
see him again? “Sure,” he hurries to say, because Nick's starting to look a
little unsure, like maybe Harry wouldn't want that after all. Harry guesses he
probably has quite a few people who shag once then go for the next famous
person. “I'd love to.”
Nick grins and kisses him quick and then he's off, and Harry's left to wonder
how the hell he's supposed to explain the marker on his bum to his mum.
 
End Notes
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