uhh idk ben and meri went to palm springs and then i wrote some winstyles
very fictional and a little nasty
—
Harry shows up on Ben’s second day in Palm Springs, knocks on the front door with a leather Hermès weekender over one shoulder and a wide white smile. There’s a Range Rover parked in the driveway, behind Ben’s Audi.
“Hiiii, Mr. Winston.”
“Mr. Styles,” Ben says, huffing a laugh, letting Harry inside. He’d invited Harry up on a whim, not thinking Harry’d be able to make the trip between tour dates, but here he is. “You made it.”
“Couldn’t pass it up, could I? Got a few days off. Ooh, nice and cool in here.”
“Innit? Meri’s out by the pool, go say hello. I’m making drinks.”
Harry wrinkles his nose. “It’s four PM.”
“I’m on holiday, H. You saying you don’t want one?”
“Well, no, I’m not saying that,” Harry says, dawdling by the makeshift bar Ben’s set up. He grabs an orange slice.
“Ey, hands off. I’m working here.”
Harry just grins, places a soft kiss on Ben’s cheek, low, nearly the side of his mouth. He ducks out of the room, sucking obnoxiously on the orange slice, dropping his bag on the floor with a thump.
Ben looks down at his cutting board, tries not to smile. Harry’s in that kind of mood, then. Well. Ben doesn’t mind that kind of mood, not at all.
–
By seven they’re all tipsy, and the sun’s gone behind the mountains, leaving it shady but still hot, a dull deadly kind of heat, the kind that makes them sleepy and loose-limbed. Ben’s wrangling with the rental house grill, a few salmon steaks waiting on a platter next to him, when Harry breezes past him, puts a hand on Ben’s bare back.
“Can I help?”
“Make a salad?”
Harry nods, pads inside, feet making wet sounds on the tile. He’s only in a pair of swim shorts, bright yellow, setting off his tan.
Ben’s got the salmon going when Meredith comes out from the shower, hair wet down her back, in a sheer white dress that clings to her damp frame. Ben wolf-whistles, because he gets to be an idiot sometimes. She married him, she’s got to deal with it.
She rolls her eyes. Kisses his cheek, and then his mouth. She tastes of tequila and lime.
“So,” she says against his ear, while Ben pokes at the steaks. “Harry’s being very… Harry.”
Ben laughs. “Wasn’t sure if he’d come.”
Meredith shrugs, runs her hand over Ben’s back, the back of his neck. “Glad he did.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Meredith’s quiet for a moment, rubbing his back.
“It’s been a while since we, like,” Ben says, into the silence. “Y'know.”
“It has.”
Ben stares down at the salmon, his face hot. Just from the grill, of course. “If you’d be up for it, well.”
Meredith’s quiet again.
“Yeah,” she says eventually, leaning in to kiss his mouth. She pulls away, licking her lips. Grins suddenly. “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Ben repeats, and he can’t be bothered that the salmon might burn, he has to kiss her again. He pulls her in by the small of her back, slides his hand down to cup her arse through gauzy cotton, and she sighs against his mouth.
He hears the porch door sliding open, pulls away to see Harry carrying a bowl of greens. He’s pink-cheeked, a little stumbly, drunk. He’s slung on a t-shirt, and it hangs loose and open around his collarbone, catches on his taut nipples.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he says, mouth curving up, amused. “But I think the meat might be burning.”
Ben blinks at him, and then turns to the grill. “Shit.”
Meredith laughs, and Ben works on salvaging their dinner. Teases, the both of them.
–
Ben goes into the kitchen to make another round of drinks after dinner. He’s quite pissed himself by now, but he focuses hard on not slicing his thumb off as he cuts limes, squeezes juice into three glasses. He can hold his drink, anyway, he’s not a kid.
Harry, on the other hand.
Ben hears a splash, looks out the window to see Meredith laughing and Harry nowhere to be found. Or- no. There he is, a slice of tan skin cutting through the water. His clothes are in a heap on the side of the pool. Predictable.
Harry surfaces, laughing, shaking his hair out of his face.
“Don’t drown!” Ben calls. “Idiot!”
Harry just waves, standing up in the shallow water. He’s naked, body gleaming in the fading light. He holds his arms out to the sky like he’s praying, shuts his eyes, and it’s hard to not look at him.
Ben manages it, forces himself to finish their drinks.
When he comes out again Harry’s still swimming. He pokes his head out of the water.
“Come innn,” he calls, grinning, teeth flashing. “It’s brilliant.”
Ben shakes his head with a snort. “Come have your drink, H. You begged for it.”
Harry swims up to the side, slings his arms onto the ground. He’s panting like a puppy, looking happy, relaxed. Ben likes to see him that way. Especially with what’s been happening lately, all the headlines.
“Bring it to me?” Harry says sweetly.
Ben rolls his eyes, but he hands the drink over, and Harry takes a deep gulp, throat working.
“S'good,” he says after he swallows, setting the drink back down. “Now swimming.”
He splashes back into the water, and Ben settles back into his chair, slides Meri’s drink across the table to her. She smiles.
—
They’re halfway through a conversation about their next holiday when Harry climbs out of the pool. Ben looks over at him, laughs when Harry shakes his hair out like Colin does after a bath.
“Welcome back, Styles. Have a nice swim?”
Harry dimples at both of them. "You talking about Israel?”
“Yeah,” Ben says, watching him rub a hand over his chest, shivering against the night air. “Next spring, we’re thinking. Gonna get flights next week.”
“Sick,” Harry murmurs, reaching down to grab his drink off the ground. His arse flashes, pale white against the golden tan of his legs and back. He’s been out in the sun, then. Ben stares a bit, hears Meri cough and looks over.
She raises an eyebrow.
Ben nods.
“Haz,” he says, watching Harry grab for a towel.
Harry looks over at them. “Mmhm?”
Ben looks at him.
It only takes Harry a moment to get it. That’s a nice thing about him, how quick he is on the uptake. There are lots of nice things about him.
He lets the towel drop. He’s still damp, nipples hard in the night air, his dick hanging thick and heavy between his legs.
Not that his dick matters. At least not at first.
Harry’s eyes slide from Ben to Meri, and when Ben looks over Meri is sitting low in her chair, legs spreading. Ben’s mouth goes dry.
“Harry,” he says, swallowing. “Why don’t you go over there, help her out?”
Harry rubs a hand over his mouth. His hair is dripping, and his dick’s starting to perk up.
“Harry,” Meredith says, voice low and soft the way it gets before she holds Ben down by the wrists and rides him. “C'mere, darling.”
Harry comes, nearly stumbling over a discarded flip-flop.
“Put down a towel for his knees,” Ben says, handing one over, damp from before. “There’s a good lad.”
He watches as Harry drops his head, kisses up the inside of his wife’s thigh, then over Meri’s knickers, his tongue out, pink and wet. Meredith’s shuddering, breathing starting to go choppy, but Ben knows her, knows she needs more than a couple licks through her knickers.
“Harry,” he says, scraping his chair closer. His dick’s throbbing pleasantly in his shorts. It’s a heady feeling, when they do this. “Do it properly now. No fucking around.”
Harry looks back at him, his back hunched. His eyes are bright.
Ben nods at him. “Go on.”
Harry nods back, reaches up with big hands to drag Meri’s knickers down her thighs. Meredith reaches out, strokes her fingers through Harry’s damp hair.
“Good boy,” she murmurs, as he buries his face between her legs. “Fuck, that’s good.”
Ben swallows again, grabs for his drink to wet his throat. He can hear Harry’s mouth working, wet and shameless. Meredith arches her back, lets out a steady slow breath, legs splayed.
Her head tips back, to the side, and her eyes flutter open, land on Ben’s.
Love you, she mouths, and then her eyes fall shut again as Harry does something with his tongue that makes her shudder.
She’s come twice and has a leg slung up over Harry’s shoulder by the time Ben says, “Alright, H, my turn.”
“Spoilsport,” Meri says, weak as a kitten, all worn out. She flops her head back, grins at the sky.
Ben appreciates his wife getting off, he does, but his dick’s hard and all he wants is Harry’s mouth. Harry turns, eyes glazed, licking his swollen-red mouth. His cock’s proper hard now, thick and flushed.
Ben pats his thigh, grins, and Harry makes his way over gamely, looking hungry. Bit of a glutton for punishment, is Harry. He doesn’t mind waiting.
He runs his hands up Ben’s thighs, against the grain of hair, and Ben huffs a hard breath. Harry tilts his head up, looks at him hopefully, and Ben leans down to kiss that soft mouth.
Harry tastes like Ben’s wife. There’s salt at the corner of his mouth. Ben licks it up, sucks Harry’s tongue, until Harry’s whining, hands clenching on Ben’s thighs. Fuck, he’s lovely. Ben fucking loves this.
“Alright,” he says, breathless, putting a hand in Harry’s hair. Meredith is watching lazily, lips parted, legs still splayed. “Alright. Put that mouth to use, H.”
Harry does.
Ben forgot how good he was at sucking dick. All of Harry’s tricks, his pretty mouth, his broad hot tongue. He has Ben close to coming, hips jerking, before Ben remembers himself and pulls Harry off by the hair. It’s hard enough that Harry lets out a happy whine, rolling his head back and forth to feel the tug on his scalp.
“Can get you off,” he says, voice hoarse, groaning when Ben pulls his hair again. “Mmgh, Ben, please. Lemme get you off.”
Ben’s close to it, close to shoving Harry’s lovely mouth back down onto his cock again. He’s breathing hard. He looks up at Meri.
Meri nods, biting her lip.
“Your lucky day,” Ben murmurs, pushing Harry’s head back down. Harry opens up sweetly around the length of his dick, plush lips parting, throat hot and tight. His hair’s like damp silk between Ben’s fingers, too easy to pull. Everything about him’s too easy.
Ben has to bite on his wrist to keep from getting loud as he comes. Their place is private, big backyard, but still. Wouldn’t do to have some old rich geezer call the police and find Harry Styles on his knees with a dick down his throat.
Harry comes up for air with a smear of come drying on the side of his mouth, lips shiny-wet. From the glazed look on his face, the hand sneaking between his legs to rub his hard cock, he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Ben,” he mumbles. “Ben, fuck-”
“Inside now, love. We’ll take care of you.”
“Ben,” Harry says, almost a moan.
“Inside,” Meri says, voice sharp. Ben gets a tingle down his spine. He likes when Meri joins in, tells Harry how she wants him. Harry likes it too. Likes both of them being - stern. “Not done with you yet, darling. Hands off yourself.”
Harry takes his hand away, and Meri leads him inside by the hand.
Ben looks at the pool for a minute, gleaming blue, before he follows them, stepping carefully around their clothes, sliding the door gently shut behind them.
They’ve already started when he gets in. Harry’s flat on his back and Meri’s rummaging in their case for a condom.
Harry looks over at him, flopping a hand out onto the plush king mattress.
“Ben,” he says, dazed. He grins sheepishly, dimple popping out. “Can I, um.”
“Can you what? Fuck my wife?”
Harry’s eyes squeeze shut for a minute. Ben watches him swallow deeply.
“Was that you were asking?” Ben murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on the heaving flat of Harry’s belly. Harry’s cock twitches. “If you could fuck my wife while I watch?”
“Ben,” Harry moans.
“What if I say no?” Ben breathes, tracing his fingers down around the length of Harry’s fat prick, pressed leaking against his belly. “What if I said you didn’t get to come tonight, what would you do?”
Harry looks at him, wild-eyed. He’s trembling.
“And in the morning,” Ben murmurs. “You had to use your mouth on us again til we both get off. Stay on your knees.”
Harry moans. His face is red and hot.
“Your poor prick,” Ben says, very soft. He rolls his palm against the sticky head of it, and Harry’s leg jerks out on the bed. He makes a strangled sound. “Having to wait and wait. You like it that way, though, don’t you?”
Harry nods frantically.
“Yeah, you do. You love to wait. Do you love to make me come?”
Another nod.
“You love to make her come?”
“Yeah,” Harry moans. “Yeah.”
Ben’s mouth is watering at the sight of him, and then Meri’s climbing onto the bed.
“Put the condom on him, babe?” she asks, tossing it, before she knees her way up Harry’s torso and sits on his face.
Harry makes a muffled groan against her, and then sets to work.
Ben rolls the condom down Harry’s cock, holds his hips down when Harry tries to thrust up against his hand.
“No, darling,” he says, soft. He strokes over Harry’s laurels, the cut of muscle in his hips. His thighs. Harry’s shaking. “You wait.”
He’s not sure if Harry can hear him with Meri’s thighs around his ears, but Harry shudders hard.
“He’s ready, Mer,” Ben says, and Meri grinds down one last time, letting out a huff of breath, before she pulls off and sits down on Harry’s cock.
Harry groans low, like it’s been punched out of him. He’s perfectly still for a moment, quivering.
“Move your hips, love,” Meri murmurs, before she starts to roll her own. Harry slides his palms around Meri’s waist and thrusts up, a nice solid slide of his dick, and Ben grits out a breath, watching them. His cock’s already starting to stir at the sight. It’s sick, he knows - watching someone else screw his wife. It’s not someone else, though. It’s Harry. Harry and his eager face and his fat excitable prick. Ben’s not sure why he likes it so much, but good God, he does.
Meri comes again before Harry gets off for the first time, rubbing at her clit while Ben kisses her breathless, loving the way she whimpers against his mouth. She pulls off right away, leaves Harry shaking and wide-eyed, almost scared, like he never would’ve started if he’d known they were going to drag it out this way. In over his head.
“P-please-”
“You’ve been good,” Ben reassures him, craning over him on the bed, tugging the condom off and getting a hand on his cock. Harry squirms helplessly. “You’ve been lovely, H, haven’t you. Such a good boy.”
“The best,” Meri murmurs, sprawled out next to them, fucked out. “You felt so bloody good, Harry.”
“Your pretty mouth,” Ben murmurs, wanking him harder, tighter. Harry’s choking on his breath, hands fisted in the sheets. “Opened up so nice for my cock, didn’t you darling-”
“Ben,” Harry gasps.
“Come on, now.” Ben’s breath is coming faster. Harry’s a mess by now, leaking so much Ben’s hand is slick from it. “Come on.”
Harry throws his head back, eyes slamming shut.
“Please-” he says, oddly loud and clear, before he comes all over Ben’s hand and his belly, striping his chest with white. Ben keeps stroking him, watching him. A fucking privilege, it is, to watch Harry Styles come. Even Meri’s woken up from her stupor, head propped on one hand, breathing deep while she watches Harry spill.
Harry’s eyes come open eventually, blinking, clear clear green, a perfect contrast against his tanned skin, pink cheeks, red lips. Ben fights the urge to fetch his camera for a photo.
“There you are,” he says instead, low and soft. Harry blinks again, and his mouth curves up.
He hums slowly - mmmmm, all self-satisfied, one arm stretching out - and turns his head to look at Meredith. She’s half asleep but she smiles, reaches out to stroke a strand of hair off his face.
Ben’s unaccountably fond, watching them.
“Ben,” Meredith says slowly, looking up at him. “Fetch us a glass of water?”
“Yeah, Ben,” Harry mumbles. His dimple pops out again. “Make yourself useful.”
“Little shit,” Ben mutters, laughing. He stands up, fumbles for a clean pair of pants in his case before he pads into the kitchen.
When he comes back, Meredith is asleep, and Harry’s sat up in bed, long legs pretzeled, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when Ben eases the bedroom door shut.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Ben says. “Water.”
Harry gulps it gratefully. Ben runs a hand over his hair as he drinks, soft and still damp in places, dry and chlorine-coarse in others.
He hands the glass back. Ben sets it on the bedside table.
“Forgot a toothbrush,” Harry says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Can I nick yours?”
Ben breathes out a laugh. “How old are you again?”
Harry just takes another gulp of water, before he unfolds himself from the bed, joints creaking. Walks naked and barefoot into the toilet.
Ben follows him, takes the toothbrush once Harry’s done, rinses it out and sticks it in his own mouth to brush. Harry ties his hair back in a bun, splashes water over his face, thumbs over a spot on his chin. Stares at his own reflection until Ben catches his eye in the mirror and Harry smiles wanly.
“You alright?” Ben says, around a mouthful of toothpaste.
Harry nods, and Ben nudges him aside, spits into the sink. He brings a handful of water to his mouth to rinse, straightens up.
Harry’s leaning against the counter, fidgeting with the bracelet on one wrist.
“How’re you doing, H?” Ben asks, very quietly.
Harry shrugs.
“Do you miss it?” he says.
“Miss…”
“Tour. Us. Like, all of it.”
Ben sighs. “Course I do. Sometimes.”
Harry nods, tugs the elastic out of his hair, shakes it out. He heaves a deep breath.
“I’ll be alright, won’t I?” he asks. “After it’s over.”
Ben puts an arm around his shoulders. “Course you will. You’ll be fantastic.”
“Scared,” Harry whispers, voice dried up to a trickle.
“Oh god, H. Don’t be scared. You’ll be so brilliant.”
Harry nods. Forces a watery smile in the mirror, turns to Ben and kisses his mouth.
“You’ll let me come live with you if I lose all my money and no one cares about me anymore,” he says, warm and close. “Won’t you?”
Ben laughs. “Give you Colin’s bed.”
“Heyyy,” Harry says, laughing now, looking less - lost. “I’ll pay rent in oral. I deserve a place in your bed.”
“Certainly deserve that tonight, love.” Ben pats his back. “Speaking of. You need to sleep.”
Harry nods slowly.
“Bed, now. Put some pants on.”
Harry whines, and Ben shoves him gently out of the toilet by the small of his back. “Pants on, H. Sick of waking up with your prick against my arse.”
Harry takes a pair out of Ben’s case. They’re too big, slipping down his hips, but they’ll do.
Ben turns the light off when Harry’s tucked into bed, crawls in after him.
There they all are, then. His two favorite people in the entire world. Ben buries his face in a pillow, lets out a long slow breath.
“Ben?” he hears, and he lifts his head. Harry’s peering at him in the darkness, eyes bright.
“Yeah?”
Harry nuzzles in closer to him. Presses his lips to the side of Ben’s mouth.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. “For tonight.”
Ben rubs a thumb over Harry’s eyebrow, then the soft curve of his bottom lip. “Go to sleep.”
Harry nods - Ben can’t see it but he can feel it - and rolls over onto his back.
Ben does the same, matches up his breathing with Harry, slow and steady. He’s not sure who falls asleep first.