Harry wakes up with a copy of himself next to him. What else but dirty things could ensue?
Other Harry licks his lips as his gaze flickers down to Harry’s lips.
“Really?” Harry asks, teasing because he’s been thinking the exact same thing since he woke up with other Harry plastered to his side. He’s really not got a leg to stand on.
“Oh, yeah,” other Harry says and leans up from where he’s still lying by Harry’s shoulder. He doesn’t pause to make sure Harry’s okay with what he’s doing but then that really would’ve been silly, Harry guesses. Of course he’s okay with this, because he is. Thinking about it gives him a bit of a timey-wimey headache and anyway, he’s really got more important things to do. Like memorise the way his lips feel against his own. It should probably be stranger than it is, but Harry’s eyes are closed and all he takes in is the close proximity of another body and soft, wet lips sliding along his own. He’s not about to turn that down. His lips are big and they move over his with ease, knowing where to push and pull. Well. Makes sense, that. Other Harry doesn’t exactly taste amazing first thing in the morning, but then neither does Harry himself, he thinks, and it’s not like it’s bad enough to make them stop. Au contraire. As other Harry pushes his tongue into Harry’s mouth, Harry reaches out and grabs a shoulder, pulling him in. Other Harry gets the picture easily and moves to straddle him, kicking the blanket to the feet of the bed. The necklaces around other Harry’s neck dangle down and brush against Harry’s skin, cool and ticklish. He shudders a bit but doesn’t move to stop. Instead he lets his hand trail down over other Harry’s arm, feeling the muscles tighten as he holds himself up over him. That gym thing is really paying off.
He grabs for other Harry with his second hand too, trailing it down over the smooth planes of his chest and grabbing at his hips. The bones there jut out sharply and provide a natural guide post to his cock. Harry can feel his own fattening up with arousal and he’s pretty sure that other Harry is in a similar state. Reaching out and touching seems like a last step to ‘really fucking across the line’ though and for a moment Harry hesitates.
“Oh, come on, no chickening out now,” other Harry pulls back to say. Harry misses the touch of lips and a tongue against his own and tilts his chin up as he lets his fingers follow the v of other Harry’s hips into the coarse, dark hair and the half-hard cock nestled in it.
“Fuck,” other Harry groans as Harry wraps his fingers around it and starts jerking him slowly. Harry feels him swell fully in his hand and this at least feels completely familiar – except for the angle.
“Come on, kiss me again,” he says when he gets impatient with the lack of kissing from other Harry, but he shakes his head and pushes himself further away.
“No, I wanna touch too,” he says and suddenly Harry sees how this could be a problem. Christ, they’re both probably way too demanding.
“Alright, we’ll sit up,” he says and pushes other Harry back to scoot up to the headboard and lean against it. Other Harry grins at him lopsidedly, clearly in favour of the idea and straddles Harry’s lap as soon as he can, running both palms up over Harry’s chest, watching his fingers spread out over essentially his own milky skin, before Harry grabs him by the back of his neck and pulls him into another kiss.
