Current music:

The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

slash_100 ; 003
Title: Your Heart is Racing as Your Fingers Touch Your Skin
Fandom: McFly
Characters: Dougie Poynter, Harry Judd
Prompt: 078;Discovery
Word Count: 2794
Rating: R
Summary: Dougie never objected to anything. How could someone so casual, and accepting of everything have suddenly exploded with such a tidal wave of anger?
Author's Notes: Alternate Universe fic. Graphic Dougie/Dougie scene. Reader discretion is advised.



He whimpers as you pull his bottom lip into your mouth, gently biting the flesh. His arms snake around your waist and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards. He slides his hands up and under your shirt as he pulls his tongue out of your mouth and traces his way down your neck. Two identical moans fill the air as your bodies come crashing down together on the bed.

You run your hands through his shaggy black hair as your tongue plays with his earlobe, and you feel the vibration of his moan flow through you to a place painfully close to your manhood. You pull away and sit up, grabbing hold of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You discard it and quickly remove his, tossing it into an unknown corner of the hotel room.

You almost fall over as he jolts upright, and you throw your arms around him to keep yourself in position. Your open mouths attach and your tongues battle for space in his mouth. You drop one of your hands to his lap, slowly rubbing him through his clothing. He groans and you feel your pants become more restricting by the second.

He pries his mouth off yours for a moment, just long enough to fiddle with your belt, and you take advantage of this opportunity to abandon your pants. He whimpers as you stand up, but a satisfied grin overcomes his face when you lean over to remove his pants as well. He aids you by kicking them to the ground, and you immediately attack his collarbone with your tongue.

He writhes underneath you, and you cant help but smile as you run your tongue in circles around his nipple. You pull away and blow lightly on the saliva-coated skin, feeling him shiver beneath you. This process is repeated again on the other side. Pleased with his reaction, you trail down his torso, paying close attention to the sensitive skin of his hips.

He arches his back, craving for your touch and you gladly accept his silent proposal. You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and very slowly engulf him. You work your tongue around as you bob your head, and he groans loudly, unconsciously bucking his hips. He tangles his hands in your dark hair, and you can tell he’s getting close, so you slow down and lift your mouth away, licking your lips. He whimpers and you smirk, crawling up his body and kissing him fiercely.

He whispers for you to take him and that he can’t wait any longer, but before he even finishes his sentence you’re sliding a lubed finger inside him.

"Harry, honey, Dougie’s here!"

Fumbling with the mouse and nearly jumping out of his skin, Harry quickly stands up to block the computer screen from his mother’s view. She had burst through his bedroom door without so much as a knock, something she’s rather fond of doing.

She looks curiously at her son for a few moments, whom hasn’t even turned around to face her, before shrugging and heading back down the hallway towards the front door.

Harry just scoffs as he hears his door shut, and plops back down into his chair. This is the third time this week she’s walked in on him reading some varying degree of erotica, and each of those times he’s had a rather large tent in his jeans. Harry’s certain she’ll find out what’s going on, but he can only hope that day doesn’t ever come.

The familiar sound of his best mate’s footsteps rings in Harry’s ears, and a small smile creeps onto his face. Surely, Dougie wouldn’t mind if Harry relieved himself. Dougie never objected to anything.

Just as expected, the younger boy slowly turns the doorknob, and quietly, almost hesitantly enters the room.

"Hey Dougie."

"Sup Harry."

"Mind if I jerk off?"

"Go right ahead."

Dougie waits for Harry to move over to the bed, and when he does, he snatches the computer chair. This isn’t unusual for the two, masturbating in the presence of the other. This is natural for them.

Harry, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, points to the computer screen without thinking.

"You have to read that shit, Doug."

The other boy just giggles and turns his attention to the story. As he begins reading, Harry allows his eyes to scan over the back of his best mate’s body. From the wild, untamed mop of brown hair, to the bright green tee shirt, to the unusually tight (for him, anyway) and tattered jeans. Dougie is cute. Too cute, Harry decides. And so very, very innocent.

The older boy darts his tongue out to wet his lips, watching closely for any reactions from his friend. He is slightly disappointed when he sees none. "Well?" he asks. Poor Harry forgets momentarily that he hasn't actually told Dougie he's gay. He’s just assumed that Dougie knows.

Dougie clears his throat.

"Dougie?"

Nothing.

"Dude. You even listening to me?"

Still nothing. A now horribly befuddled Harry stands from the bed and walks the short distance to his computer. Cautiously, he rests a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but quickly withdraws when Dougie nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Dougie, what the fuck?"

Harry takes a step to the side, to get a better look at his friend’s face. Harry’s brow furrows when he catches the almost horrified expression. Jaw hanging open slightly, honeyed eyes wide and shocked, Harry can’t remember the last time he’d seen his usually laid-back friend so...surprised.

Dougie, after regaining some coherent thought, slowly raises a finger to point at the screen. Harry only grows more confused.

"That’s...G-...wh-...two g-guys?"

Harry nods slowly, wary about the way Dougie’s acting. "Yeah..." he says hesitantly.

Dougie's eyes grow wider. "Harry," he says quietly, pausing for a moment. "What the fuck..."

"Douglet, what the hell is wrong with you?"

The younger boy shakes his head furiously, and jumps up from the chair. "I have to go," he says quickly, and immediately turns to leave the room. Harry follows right after him, grabbing for the boy’s arm.

"Douglas Poynter, what the hell are you on about? Yes that was two guys, but what’s the big deal? You’ve never had a problem with guys being gay before."

Dougie struggles with his arm, eventually freeing it from Harry’s strong grasp. "Maybe I’m pissed off with you, did you ever think of that? Maybe I’m pissed because I’m supposed to be your best mate and you didn’t even tell me?" The younger boy falls silent for a moment, before scoffing and heading down the hallway towards the front door. This makes Harry mildly nervous. What would happen if his nosy mother hears this? He doesn’t even want to think about it.

"Tell you what?" Harry asks desperately, following Dougie through the house. This makes Dougie even more upset. How could Harry be so thick? He suddenly stops in his spot, and turns around furiously.

"That you’re gay?!" He shouts. "I’m your best mate for God’s sake! How could you keep something like this from me?"

Harry winces. Never has he heard his best friend raise his voice. Not once.

"Dougie, I-"

Dougie cuts him off. "No, Harry I don’t want to hear it. If you can’t even trust me enough to tell me, why should I waste my time trusting you? I’m leaving."

Harry stands dumbfounded as he hears the words coming from Dougie’s mouth. He wants to tell him he’s sorry, he wants to explain that he thought he already knew. But nothing comes out of his slack-jawed mouth. Harry simply watches in horror as his best mate walks out the door.

Harry doesn’t even know how many minutes pass as he remains glued to the spot, contemplating what had just happened. Could Dougie really not have known? Had he never picked up on all the signals? This is all too overwhelming. Harry doesn’t understand how someone so casual, and accepting of everything could have suddenly exploded with such a tidal wave of anger. It just doesn’t make sense. Something must have set him off, gotten inside his head. That’s the only explanation. Something must have been bothering Dougie and Harry must have made it worse.

Dougie couldn’t really be mad at Harry, could he? No. There is something more to this. There has to be.

A now very determined Harry jumps into a pair of shoes and runs out the door without a word to his mother. He has to speak to Dougie, and he doesn’t want to waste his precious time and breath on her.

_____

Dougie collapses onto the bed on his back, laying there for a moment and taking a deep breath. His eyes slip shut and the previous event flashes through his mind. How could he have been so foolish? He had completely overreacted, and feels sick to his stomach knowing he had just yelled at his best mate. He isn’t really cross with Harry, because it obviously wasn’t his fault Dougie was too blind to see the signs.

Is Harry really gay? How could he have missed out on it? Now that he thinks about it, it really is obvious. Why else would Harry be so comfortable masturbating in front of him? This is too much for Dougie to think about, as he can barely get past the thought that he could now fantasize about his best friend, with less guilt. Hell, maybe Harry could become attracted to him?

Dougie doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but all he can think about is his best friend. He begins thinking about losing his virginity to him, and within a few minutes he grows hard. So here he lies, on his back, tugging his jeans down.

After he gets his jeans off he turns on his stereo, so no one will be able to hear him if he accidentally lets a noise slip. His eyes are shut again as he lets his hands travel down his bare chest and stomach, over the flat surface, picturing it's Harry running his hands over him. He shivers slightly when he reaches the waist of his boxers and he very slowly pulls them down, pretending the older boy is teasing him. He lets his fingers wander along his hips and the creases of his thighs before he finally drags his index finger along the underside of his shaft.

Dougie doesn't even notice Harry enter the room; he's too wrapped up in the scenario playing in his mind. He's completely naked and completely exposed on the bed, his hand now wrapped around his cock as he slowly jerks himself off. He's picturing himself and Harry on a couch in his living room, and he imagines the boy has his mouth around him. A small moan escapes his lips and he brings one hand to his mouth, spitting on it to wet it before he reaches down between his legs. He runs his thumb over the head and groans.

He begins to work his hand faster, his imagination running absolutely wild. He uses his free hand to scrape down his chest and abdomen, whimpering a bit before running his palm back up. He's beginning to pant slightly, his jaw hanging open a tiny amount as he buckles his hips up. He can picture Harry having his way with him, and it's driving him mad with desire.

Dougie can feel the pleasure building up as he draws himself closer and closer to the edge. He's beginning to sweat now, panting heavier from the slight exertion. He stops the movement of his hand suddenly, dipping his fingers down to drag his non-existent nails up the sensitive vein. He groans and immediately starts pumping his hand again, and he arches his back up off the bed as he feels the start of an orgasm coming on.

His abdomen tightens and he moans even louder this time as he pumps his hand a few more times, and he shoots his load out and onto his hand. "Oh God, Harry..." he groans, eyes still shut, still completely oblivious to the boy’s presence. His chest is heaving and he collapses flat on the bed, the climax taking a lot out of him. After a few moments he's brought back to reality, but refuses to open his eyes because he knows what he just imagined didn't really happen.

_____

Harry sighs to himself, frustrated when he finds the front door of Dougie’s house to be locked. He knocks repeatedly on the door, waiting impatiently, praying that Dougie will open it.

"Dougie it’s me, open the door, please!" He shouts hopelessly, still rapping at the wood. He immediately stops, taken aback when the door swings open and he comes face to face with Dougie’s father.

"Jesus, what’s gotten into you boys? First Dougie storms in without a word, and slams the door, locking himself in his room. Now you come screaming for him, nearly breaking down my front door?"

Harry sighs softly, his voice softer than usual. "I’m sorry Mr. Poynter, we sort of got into a fight and I’ve come to fix things. And apologize."

The look on the older man’s face quickly changes to a concerned one. "You and Dougie fought? That’s not like you two at all. I’m sorry to hear that." Harry simply shrugs, and steps inside the house. "Would you like something to eat, Harry? Maybe you could take something up to Dougie as well." The boy nods and follows Dougie’s father into the kitchen.

Plate in hand now, Harry makes his way upstairs towards the familiar bedroom. Resting his free hand on the doorknob, he smiles weakly to himself when he hears the sound of his favourite band filtering through the walls. He watches the handle as it turns, making sure he’s almost silent as he opens the door just enough for him to slip inside the room. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Dougie, his eyes wide, and he’s unable to blink or move.

His eyes continue to widen when he realizes Dougie hasn’t noticed him walk in. He finally tears his eyes away from the younger boy and looks behind him with a very guilty looking smile, to check that no one’s behind him. Harry blushes almost crimson as he watches him, almost certain he’ll get caught and have to stutter out an explanation. Hesitantly resting his head on the doorframe, he fixates his eyes on Dougie’s body, still listening closely for a noise behind him.

He feels himself go weak at the knees as his eyes wander over every inch of the boy’s body. He clenches his fist as his fingers begin itching to feel the warm soft skin under his fingertips. His blush deepens, if possible, as he glances down at the growing bulge in his own jeans, and he bites down hard on his lip. His eyes remain glued to the sight before him, his heart jumping as he imagines that he’s the one Dougie’s thinking about, but he knows that would be something to good to be true. Wait a minute, since when was Harry attracted to Dougie? Harry finds himself suddenly realizing that maybe Dougie’s much more alluring than he’d originally thought.

Harry sinks his teeth down hard into the soft flesh of his bottom lip when he hears a moan escape the other boy’s throat. His eyes are watching Dougie’s hand carefully, his own throbbing cock begging for attention though he barely notices. Running his tongue over his now bleeding lip, his mind toys with the idea of the boy’s length in his mouth, and he digs his nails into his palm, his eyes burning with sheer lust. This is so much better than reading that story.

He takes a small, short breath when he hears Dougie groan out his name. He’s certain his mind isn't playing tricks this time, and his jaw drops slightly as he mumbles "what?" out of habit before he can stop himself. Biting his lip into his mouth and then clamping his hand over it before he does anything stupid, he slowly backs out of the room, silently closing the door again.

A wide grin spreads over his face as he heads back down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He falls into a dream-like state, now realizing why Dougie was so upset when he discovered Harry’s little secret. Dougie likes him. Him. Harry. Of all people. That cheeky little grin remains on his face as he sets the plate back onto the kitchen counter, and makes his way out of the Poynter residence.

Maybe Harry being gay isn’t such a bad thing after all.



( x-posted to mcflyslash )