Since Harry discovered sex he doesn't want to do anything else.

Like anything, not even bake cakes or bitch about Charlie, and while it's all very well and good lying around having orgasms, I have got other stuff to do, like get a degree and finish my now over-due essay. It doesn't help that Harry is so gorgeous and absolutely phenomenal at anything to do with sex. Like I thought my random hip rotations were sex expert level five until Harry came along, busting out moves like John Travola in Saturday Night Fever.

He doesn't seem to have an off switch though. Sometime on Saturday afternoon I emerged from under the duvet and crawled across the bed like the ring girl, seeking oxygen and light, only for Harry to drag me back under the cover by my leg as I left nail marks down the sheet.

Maybe this is my life now. Having endless sex with Harry until my heart gives up mid-orgasm and my parents can't have an open casket as they don't want to display my frozen orgasm face to my family. Maybe I'll have to wander heaven forever in a constant state of mid-orgasm and be rejected by my dead relatives.

Harry, thankfully, saves me from orgasming in heaven (which sounds like an 80s pop song btw) by deciding that he's hungry.

I think his initial plan was to have a quick sandwich then trapeze back to the bed for some more naked gymnastics, but I convince him to cook us something while I head off to shower. A quick glance in the bathroom mirror tells me that I have so many love bites that I look like I've been attacked by a horde of angry leeches. As Harry turned away from me, I saw that his back looked like he'd been mauled by a tiger from my fingernails, so I guess we're even.

My upper thighs are sore, which I guess is what happens when they're not used to much movement and you suddenly subject them to a full weekend of a hard, muscular body pounding off them. Actually, my everything is sore.

Wow.

Ok wow. Now that I've got a moment away from Harry's mouth/tongue/body, I lean back against the shower wall, relishing in the tingle of my body. Ok, that was an incredible weekend. And cute little Harry... Where did this side of him come from, like damn. Maybe sex is like a switch for him and he'll suddenly be all like Juan now.

He's showering in the ensuite and I hear the water turn off abruptly before his shower door creaks open noisily. I stay in my shower a bit longer, massaging coconut body wash into my skin. Once I'm finally out of the shower I towel dry my hair and plait it, pull on a baggy grey t-shirt and some knickers then peek slowly round the door, half expecting to see Harry naked and ready for round 752 or whatever it is.

He's sat on the sofa in his yellow Hufflepuff pajamas. His hair is a bit fluffy and damp and he grins shyly at me, patting the seat next to him and holding out a bowl of steaming pasta.

"It's my turn to pick." He says as I settle on the seat next to him. I roll my eyes when I see the screen frozen on the opening credits of Beauty and the Beast, but I don't really mind. Once he's finished eating, he puts his bowl on the coffee table and hesitantly puts his arms around me. When I don't shuffle away, he pulls me closer so that I'm pressed against his hard chest. I can feel his hot skin through his top.

"Hendrix?"

"Um?"

"Was everything ok?"

"What do you mean?" I tear my eyes away from the screen and turn to look at his face behind me. He's trying, and failing, to look casual.

"I mean... Er... Sort of... You know. Me."

"You?"

"Yes. Was... Did I do everything right?"

I suddenly realise what he's talking about and I have to suppress a giggle at how shy and awkward he's being after spending the majority of the weekend naked and grunting dirty words in my ear.

"You were more than ok Harry. You were amazing, like holy shit."

"Oh." His lips pull into a pleased smile but he suppresses it. "Well, that's ok then."

He sits up a little straighter and continues watching. Dave stalks past several times, just to make us completely aware that he's not talking to us after the great cushion throwing incident of Friday night. After a few slow strolls directly in front of the screen, Dave stops and dead-eyes me as he slowly sits down, directly in front of the TV. My hand twitches towards a cushion and he runs quickly to the other side of the room.

We settle back down and after a couple of minutes, it gets to the bit that always makes Harry a little damp eyed, where Belle and the Beast are dancing in the ballroom.

He wraps his arms tighter around my waist, pulling my back against his chest and and he sings along softly in my ear. It's cheesy and lame af but I dig cheesy and lame af.

"Just a little change,
Small to say the least,
Both a little scared,
Neither one prepared,
Beauty and the beast.."

"Cute." I shift and turn so that I can see his face.

"You're the Beast by the way." He says cheekily.

"Oi!" I try to poke one of his dimples but he grabs my hand and kisses it. I raise my other hand but he gently grabs my wrist and pulls me round, so that I'm laid flat against his chest.

He brings a finger up to trace my cheek and collar bone. As his fingertips trace lightly down my arms and and waist, I feel something against my leg. I lift away from him and look at the space between us.

"Again?!" I ask in disbelief.

Harry laughs and reaches up, pulling my face down to his and presses hot kisses to my face and neck.

Obviously, I'm doomed to fail my degree and spend eternity with the whole mid-orgasm face in heaven thing.

***

"I need a wee."

"Harry, you're going to have to wait." I hiss from the corner of my mouth, issuing a jovial smile to a passing relative of Marcia's who gives us a funny look.

"I can't! I'm going to wet myself."

"Oh for god's sake!" I hiss.

"I'm nervous!"

"What have you got to be nervous about? It's Juan who's getting married!"

Harry is holding his crotch with one hand and dancing slightly. A few people filling into the church are avoiding coming near him and staring, so with a groan, I drag him around the back and point to a clump of bushes. He opens his mouth to protest but one look at the scowl on my face quells any arguement and he meekly goes towards the bushes unzipping his flies.

I can understand Marcia choosing the Dream factory boys outfits. I mean, it's her wedding and they don't exactly have a great track record of choosing well, but why did she get to choose ours too?

I'm wearing an orange puffball dress and elbow length gloves. The only person who looks more annoyed about this outfit is Grace, who keeps muttering things about 'beating some ass' and sticking dresses where the sun doesn't shine. Marcia was also making vague statements about perms and ringlets, but Liam stepped in, thus preventing the murder that Grace would surely have commited.

Harry sees absolutely nothing amiss with my outfit. His only deep regret is that his outfit was chosen for him so he couldn't wear a tangerine orange suit to match me.

Zayn and Kathy said they couldn't make it, but I'd bet money on Kathy refusing after seeing the dresses.

Harry steps inside with the other groomsmen and I shake my head as they pass me. All are wearing the matching suit but in their own unique way. Harry's shirt is unbuttoned to almost his navel. Niall has neglected to wear the smart black shoes and is barefoot. His long hair is plaited in two neat braids.

Robert swapped the white shirt for a black one and is struggling to stay in the shade, which is edging slowly away from the church. He's clinging to the wall as several of Marcia's huge family stare at him.

It's Louis who has really gone to town though. He's swapped the white shirt for a silk one and added several slashes to the arms his suit so that the silky material shows though. He's also added a snazzy velvet cap with a large feather and, most alarmingly, a huge sword is dangling from his hip.

Liam, noticing all the stares, begins to herd the boys into the church, offering charming smiles and little compliments to anyone who catches his eye. Robert is the last one and Liam has to prise him off the wall. The moment he does the sunlight dazzles off Roberts skin, making everyone wince. Liam throws his jacket over Robert and shoves him inside as the crowd begins to gasp and whisper.

I watch as Liam comes back outside and takes control, placing people in neat lines and chatting to elderly relatives as he shows them into the church. I wonder how much help the other boys are being inside.

"These goddamn... Crappy.... Shitty .... DRESSES!!" Grace appears suddenly next to me, holding up the hem of the own disgusting puffball dress. "What the hell was that girl thinking?" She pulls a large hipflask out of her bag and drinks deeply before offering it to me. I take it and wince at the burning taste of the whiskey.

"Drink up. I decided that the only way we're gonna make it through this is if we're drunk." She sighs. "Did you see Dr P arrive?"

"What? No." I lower the flask as I look at her. She adjusts her bodice with a sigh before she answers.

"Yep, just when Liam pulled Robert out of the shade. He didn't look too happy about the attention that attracted. I don't trust him. I don't trust this wedding, anything that he supports means bad news."

"You think Juan and Marcia are in on something with him?" I frown. I don't particularly like either of them, but it seems unlikely.

"No, I don't think that. I think he's using them for something but I'm not sure what."

This doesn't make any sense to me but before I can question Grace, she begins to laugh.

"Jesus! And I thought we looked bad girly!" I look to where she's pointing. Marcia has just got out of the car in the biggest dress I've ever seen. Given that shes barely 5 ft, she's little more than a small head poking out of a sea of satin and puffy lace.

"C'mon, we better get inside." Grace says, taking a quick glug at her hip flask. I do the same before she shoves it clumsily into her handbag and we both set off running, holding our dresses up from the gravel.

We slip in ahead of Marcia, who gives us a very regal look from within her satin/lace prison. Grace and I take several attempts to wedge our dresses in to a single pew, earning several loud tuts before Grace snaps to a particularly tutty lady: "Look bitch, do you want to try wedging a fat ass wrapped in a huge dress in this tiny seat?"

We've barely squeezed in when the wedding march starts. Harry and the other boys are lined up against a wall near the front. Niall is picking his nose absentmindedly whilst Robert looks like a particularly depressed mourner at a funeral.

There have been many whispers about the weird groomsmen but personally I think Juan looks just as bad. He's wearing a black silk suit, open, of course, right down his hairy chest and he has several medallions hanging there. Marcia is making her way slowly down the aisle and Grace has just leaned in to whisper something to me when I catch sight of Dr P.

He's looking at me and he smiles and inclines his head as I catch his eye. Next to him is an incredibly beautiful Asian girl and I watch as she leans in and says something in his ear, making him smile. Urgh he's such a creep. He nods to me again before turning his attention back to the wedding.

Marcia has reached the front and before her father has even walked fully away, Juan has flung her over his arm and began to kiss her passionately. The priest, who is about as tall as the average ten year old, coughs squeakily several times but it's more than a few uncomfortable seconds before Juan breaks away and turns to face him. Marcia giggles and I hear Grace snort next to me.

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here-" 

Harry and Niall are playing rock, paper, scissors, unaware that Marcia's father is glaring at them. The priest begins to drone on and I zone out, wondering what Grace meant about Dr P. It's kinda weird that he's supporting this whole thing though, I mean, we're supposed to the trialing the dream factory guys, surely he wouldn't want something like this during the trial stage? But he looks quite happy that it's all going ahead. I'm starting to get worried about the end of the trial in three months time, but surely this is proof that the boys just stay with us? I mean, you wouldn't arrange a wedding with 200 people in attendance if it was all going to be taken away in a couple of months, would you?

He's not taking Harry anyway. I don't care what his plans are, Harry stays with me.

I'm distracted from this train of thought by some very loud shouting.

"....Unhand me you scurvy cur! Unhand me, foul breathen! Fight me man to man, I ask, nay! Nay, I ask nothing of you- I demand! I demand a duel, I demand-"

Louis is being dragged down the aisle by to large looking men that I'm assuming belong to Marcia's family.

"What happened?" I gasp, looking at Grace.

"Didn't you see?" She bites back a laugh as Louis tries valiantly to unsheath his sword. "Some guy at the front winked at Effie."

"Jeez. Talk about overreaction." I laugh as Louis is pushed backwards, demanding a blood duel and screaming his rights for justice.

"Why ain't she following him?" Grace cranes her neck buy Effie doesn't appear. She seems to have sunk lower in her seat. At last Louis' shouts die away and the priest clears his throat before continuing.

"... If anyone knows any reason why this man and women should not be united, speak now, or forever hold your tongue."

Please don't say anything. Please don't say anything.

I can almost hear Grace directing the same mental prayer to Liam that I am to Harry. The priest opens his mouth to continue as a shout rings out.

"I know a reason!"

"Here goes." Grace murmurs, rolling her eyes as Robert steps forwards.

"Love hurts. It can never be what you want, people aren't what they seem. When've lived as long as I ha-"

Luckily for her, Marcia seems to have an endless supply of massive male relatives and two of them rush forward now to grab Robert and hawk him the same way that Louis went. Unlike Louis, Robert is accompanied, Susan lets out a huge dramatic scream and runs down the aisle after him, an effect somewhat ruined when she trips and falls over.

I look over at the groomsmen. Harry waves at me happily, like a kid in a nativity play waving to their parents when they're taking part in the show.

He seems completely unaware that it's fairly unusual to have two of the groomsmen physically ejected from the church.

The priest is just about to speak again when a loud 'OMMMM' sound rings out.

Niall walks up to the pew and kisses the astonished priest on both cheeks before bowing to him.

"Namaste little dude." Niall pats the priest on the head.

He turns to the shocked faces in front of him.

"I think we need some unity here dudes. Hold hands, all of you. Come on let's do this. It's all about love. Feel the love pulse through your chakras like a huge, vibrating orgasm. Come on. Ommmmmmmm. Ommmmmmmmm. Omm-"

As two more meaty relatives of Marcia's wrestle Niall to the ground both me and Grace stare in shock. Without even looking down, she opens the hip flask and hands it to me.

"Drink up girly, I think we're gonna need it."

*

Twenty minutes later- when everyone has left the church due the the "you may kiss the bride" part turning into a snog fest that probably covered the first two rows in salvia- me and Grace are stood watching from our little spot.

Harry has found a group of grannies to giggle with while Liam takes control over the proceedings. They were the only groomsmen who made it through the process, but that's not what's got our attention.

It's not Niall, who is smoking what looks suspiciously like a joint. It's not Robert, who is wrapped up in surprisingly tender, gentle embrace with Susan while people around him avert their eyes to prevent blindness from his dazzling skin.

It's Louis who we are both watching.

He's sat a good distance away on a wall, holding his little velvet hat in his hands as he stares at the ground.

Effie is flirting up a storm with the guy who winked at her. She hasn't even glanced at Louis.

"Imma go over and sort her out." Grace says for the millionth time.

"Just leave it." I say, for the thousanth time. "We can't-"

"But look at him! He can't love anyone but her, he's not programmed  to and she's complete ignoring-"

"Good afternoon, ladies."

"What do you want?" Grace snaps at Dr P.

Wife number 4 billion is hanging off his arm.

"It's been a wonderful day hasn't it?" He smiles politely. "I always love a wedding."

Juan and Marcia are kissing passionately on the bonnet of the car as her dad tries to ignore them.

Louis keeps giving Effie forlorn glances and my heart aches for him.

"Do remember that you and Harry have an appointment next month." Dr P says lightly.

"I haven't forgotten." I snap.

"Good."

"What happens in 3 months time?" I say suddenly. Grace stiffens next to me as she watches him closely.

"We'll discuss that at a later date." He smiles widely but it leaves me cold. "Lets just enjoy this glorious day."

I watch as he walks away into the crowd.

"I don't trust him." Grace says quietly.

"Me either." I sigh.

****

Halllooooo. Did anyone miss me?

No?

Ok then. Has anyone done anything exciting?

Wow, that was a bloody long chapter. Jeezo.

Sorry for typos etc, unedited.

Dedicated to @Oxbow9 who as well as being lovely, is a new writer working a historical fanfic. If that's your sort of thing then check her out ❤️❤️

Idk why but Mood rn: