Drowning in Sight of Land

I was frantically throwing clothes and shoes at my suitcase, hiding the evidence of just how messy I really was, when Harry knocked at my door. I ran to answer, sliding a bit on my socks and pausing to fluff my hair in the entryway mirror. Be cool. This literally isn't a big deal.
"Hi! Hey!" I said quickly, slightly out of breath, when I opened the door, trying not to contort my face as I thought about how much of an idiot I sounded like. "Come in!"
"Hello!" Harry replied singsong. "Were you running a marathon?"
"No!" My cheeks turned rosy. "I was just picking up. Didn't want to walking into my knickers all over the floor and all."
Harry placed his phone and keycard on the dresser and turned back to me. "You know I don't care about that. You see my mess all the time." He had brought a bottle of wine with him, already open, but no glasses. "Do you have a few cups lying around?" He pulled the cork and waited while I searched the room, finding nothing with even a semblance of class to present to him
I came back in with an awkward smile on my face. "Coffee mug or water glass? Your choice." Harry pointed to the mug and I set them both down on the table in front of him. "Us common folk don't get complimentary wine glasses on our rooms."
Harry plopped down a chair by the window. It was late but with the ever-present jet lag and the strange hours we all kept, neither of us felt the hour. I sat opposite him on the edge of the bed, steadily sipping my wine, not knowing what to say.
"What do you want to do tonight?" Harry broke the silence. "I wouldn't mind more of the same from the other night, but it's up to you." He cracked a gentle smile before rolling his lips into his mouth.
I didn't think I'd ever felt more uncomfortable in my life. There was no graceful way of saying 'I want you to touch me everywhere, thanks.'
I finally settled on, "You should kiss me." Though that didn't feel right from the moment it left my lips.
Harry smiled even wider, looking on the edge of a full laugh. Instead he nodded his head deliberately and set his mug down on the windowsill, patting his lap for me to come sit. I rose slowly, setting my glass next to his, and stood in front of him.
"Come on then." He whispered, looking up at me. His face looked flushed but the lighting in the room was terrible and he could have just been sunburnt. "Nothing we haven't done before."
I mentally grabbed myself by the shoulders and shook. I knew this was stupid. I'm not a little girl. No need to act so damn timid. I took the last step forward between his spread knees and straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs. I nearly jumped when I felt his fingers wrap around my hips, pulling me forward ever so slightly into him. I braced my hands on the top of the chair just past his shoulders and went for it.
This kiss was different, stronger and with a little more energy. His hands didn't move but his fingertips dug in, pressing deep into my love handles. When we finally pulled apart I tenderly took his bottom lip with me between my teeth and let it snap back. I don't know a single man who hasn't enjoyed that. I gave myself a little wink in my head, causing me to erupt into a gleeful giggle, hiding my face in his neck. Harry brought a hand up to my hair, wrapping his long fingers into my curls.
"I like that." He murmured. Told you.
It didn't take us long to be at it again, his hands running up my back this time, holding me securely into him. I tried to be still, tried not to grind into him explicitly like my body begged me to. I kept one hand securely on his shoulder while the other was pressed between us on his chest. He was emitting an unreal amount of warmth, or maybe we both were. His fingers danced along the hem of my shirt but didn't move any further.
When we separated again, remaining close, breathing heavily into each other's space, Harry said breathlessly, "Do you want to do this?"
I answered entirely too quickly. "Yes. Yes I do." I panted, feeling him pushing against me through our jeans.
That's where the hesitation ended. Harry stood up, taking me with him. One hand braced under my butt and the other on the small of my back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, only letting go when he gently tossed me onto the bed. He came down with me with a grunt, catching himself on his hands braced on either side of my head. He kissed me again, allowing his lips to only linger for a moment on mine before trailing down to my neck, my collarbones, my chest. I went to gasp but his hair tickled my face and it came out as more of a giggle-snort hybrid. I blew his locks away from my mouth and wiggled a bit under his touch.
"Harry." I breathed, trying to sit up slightly on my elbows. I didn't feel so much unsure of what we were doing as unsure of what to expect, what my desired role was supposed to be. I've historically always been terrible at trysts.
"Hmm?" He hummed back in response as he unbuttoned my shirt slowly.
I didn't even know what I wanted to say, so I gave it up and brought my hands down to tug at his t shirt until he allowed me to pull it over his head. I let my hands graze over his stomach and chest, fingers spread wide, as he sat up. I'd seen him topless before, but never felt the heat of his tanned skin or felt the soft curve of his muscles underneath. He took my wrists in his hands and bought them up to his face, kissing my fingertips before pulling me upright to remove my shirt too.
When I flopped back onto the bed, I was surprised that I didn't feel exposed at all, lying there shirtless with my arms above my head. Though I did feel oddly voyeuristic while I watched him remove his belt, shoes, socks and then trousers in front of me. All I could do was grin at him; bemused by how little attempt he put in to making it sexy. Harry didn't rush but he kept his eyes on mine, grinning back as he snapped the waistband of his underwear, clearly hard underneath.
"Want me to take my jeans and knickers off then?" I questioned, laughing softly. "Or do you want to do it?"
He hovered over me, moving my knees apart with his thighs, and took the button of my jeans into his fingers. I got lost in the way the light hit him as he undressed me completely, his warm fingers sliding down my thighs as he pealed my jeans off. I'd never really focused on his face. I must have been the only woman in the world who could say that. The distinct absence of bags under his eyes interested me deeply. He rarely slept, spending entirely too much time holed away in the gym or his room, but whatever he was doing it must be right. My eyes trailed over every inch of his face, from the way his eyelashes curved up above his emerald eyes to the prickly stubble on his defined jawline. I wanted to memorize him in detail, knowing that it would probably be the last time I saw him like that.
He came down next to me, kissing my neck delicately, leaving me to finally notice my nakedness. "Where are you?" He whispered.
"Sorry. I spaced out." I turned on my side to face him, draping one leg over his now bare hips. "I just like your face."
"I like your face too." He mumbled into my hair, rolling up on his elbows to fit his body back on top of mine and slipping a hand down to feel at my core.
In all honesty, first times are rarely a religious experience. I wish I could say Harry was different, the exception to every rule, but he wasn't. He was great, don't get me wrong. I would certainly not complain. He put the work in: spreading me out, lifting me up but the meat of my ass, and rolling his hips into me, but there was no shortage of awkward nose bumps and hair in each other's faces. If anything it made me like him more. There was something so endearing about the way he blew my curls away from my face and apologized about his sweat dripping down onto my chest. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
Afterward, lying on our backs next to each other, legs hanging half off the bed, he cleared his throat to get my attention. "So, um, what do you want to do now?" His voice was slow like honey dripping from a spoon.
I sat up on my elbows, looking around for my clothes scattered on the floor. "My plan," I stated, moving to get dressed. "was to smoke a bowl on the balcony and then maybe read a book or something." I didn't want to sound like I was kicking him out, but I could feel discomfort in the situation pushing all of the steam out of the room.
"So I'll go then?" He said it more like a question, unsure.
"You don't have to go. Really." I was walking toward the bathroom with my shirt and knickers bunched up in my hands.
"I'll stay, if you don't mind." He was standing now too, looking for his own clothes, one hand resting on the back of his neck. His body looked glorious in the weak light of the single lamp. Somehow soft and strong all at once. I couldn't help but stare.
"Stay." I repeated, listlessly, before going into the bathroom and flicking the light on. It was bright enough to stun me, something I needed at that moment. A small wakeup call to remind me of what had just happened.
Thankfully, my reflection didn't show the anxiety welling in my stomach. I looked worn out but happy. I splashed some water in my face, half dressed myself, and walked back out to face Harry, who was now apparently going to stay.

Notes