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With the Certainty of Tides

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Los Angeles was never home, not to Louis. It was too foreign, the cars were driving on the wrong side of the road, the people talked too funny, everyone moved too quickly. It was full of so many different kinds of people, but going to Los Angeles meant business and only seeing the type of people that work brought together.

It was never home to Louis, but Harry loved it here and Louis loved Harry and home was wherever the other man was or whatever he’d meant with that song. And right now, it was in Los Angeles.

They’d been apart for too long, not as long as they’ve ever been without seeing one another, but long enough that Louis’ skin crawled even in his sleep. It was a few days and even that made Louis’ eyes water and throat burn—how he’d survived the days they were apart when they were younger, he’d be able to never figure it out.

Harry was in Italy for business—a music video because he’s always so transparent even when he pretends he’s an invisible man—and Louis refused to leave London because Italy in the summer was unbearable. He’d managed a few weeks there, complaining Harry’s ear off about the sticky heat and the constant state of sweat they were both in before leaving. And then returned for a few sporadic days while Harry did the same.

In reality, between the visits and the FaceTimes and the calls and the photos and the texts, they’d not spent more than a week away.

Following Harry to Los Angeles was the only choice he had when Harry was supposed to start his other project—a movie because Louis was in love with a man who wanted to dip his feet in all the waters of entertainment, who was built for glory and fame and the world—and would be gone for a long while, longer than they were comfortable with now.

So Los Angeles was never home to Louis, but Harry is and Louis’ with Harry, so he was home.

He was trapped under Harry’s heavy body, an arm thrown around his neck and upper back while Harry’s even heavier leg was tossed over the dip above his bum. The other man liked to sleep on his stomach with Louis buried into his side like the smaller boy was now, head tucked right in the hollow curve of Harry’s armpit.

The only thing Louis could hear was Harry’s snores, an annoyance that Louis slept through after years of it vibrating in his ear, and all he could smell was Harry’s sleep-sweat scent.

Harry was a furnace, always warm and always sweaty in his sleep or if he wore too many layers no matter the weather. He had the white duvet wrapped sloppily over his body, shrugging it off at some point in the night because Louis was cold or because he was too hot.

The hair of his armpit tickled Louis’ nose enough to make him giggle, eyes still closed to enjoy the remainder of peace mornings like this brought him. Harry was a deep sleeper, wouldn’t wake even if Louis moved away, turned the telly on, shook Harry’s body, started talking, opened the curtains.

He once almost slept through a video interview Louis had with a radio station, waltzing in the room with only a fluffy robe on opened loose enough for his entire chest to be on display and making Louis smile and lose focus for a moment. Harry was always a distraction, especially when no one was supposed to know he was in the same room as Louis, who was being asked silly questions about Harry’s haircut and if he was any inspiration.

His answers always mock-offended the man, turned into silly play fights in bed, turned into more.

Louis woke at the drop of a feather, Harry slept through hurricanes.

He traced light fingertips against the skin over Harry’s rib cage, dancing his fingers into shapes and letters of love, from lyrics to silent confessions. Harry’s snores were slowing to heavy puffs of air. Louis’ neck was too immobilized to lift up to see Harry’s face, complacent in the darkness the duvet and Harry offered, but he knew that the man’s cheek was squished against the pillow and his lips were parted like the fish Harry was so obsessed with.

It could’ve been ten minutes or ten days before Harry finally stirred, humming and smacking his lips and squeezing them tighter together. Louis went easily with the movement, sinking further into the fire Harry’s body felt like. He knew when Harry finally came to full awareness when guitar-string calloused fingers tiptoed across the back of his neck to tangle in the wisps of Louis’ hair that lay there.

“You forgot to put deodorant on again,” Louis mumbled as he twisted his body on his side to grasp onto Harry like a teddy bear, nuzzling his nose further into Harry’s armpit.

Harry yawned, loud and obnoxious, stretching his legs and puffing his chest to crack his back and his bones. “You love it when I forget,” he replied easily.

And Louis did. He loved Harry’s natural scent, craved it even, the heady sharpness of it. Harry’s younger, still growing body had always carried the slight smell of it even underneath the mounds of antiperspirant and cologne he used to rid the scent of his clammy body. Louis had secretly liked it and all of Harry’s other weird quirks, secretly crushed on the younger boy, secretly dreamed of being swept off his feet and living in the fame they all hoped the X-Factor would give them.

That was years ago, years before fame and albums and songs and interviews and tours and more tours and tears and pain and hurt and stupidity and fights and—years that they’ve grown from and gained from. Louis from then wouldn’t believe what they’ve done, the places they’d seen and people they’ve met, what Harry&Louis became together under the pressure while lurking in the shadows.

They’d become comfortable enough to be familiar and unbothered with all their weird kinks and odd fetishes, amidst the angst and growing up. Louis wasn’t embarrassed by his love for Harry’s scent and Harry wasn’t bothered by it, indulging him with everything Louis liked often as he needed it, just like Louis returned the favor with Harry. There was a full understanding of a willingness to give and a strong hunger to take that they both delved in, like a balance that they both loved every bit of.

It was the little things, as much as the bigger things they liked, that communicated their unity and their commitment. It was their deep desires, their unadulterated desperation for each other’s bodies and their attuned wants that made them so good. They loved each other and all that came with it—the good and the bad, the peace and the pain, the beautiful and the ugly, the heartache and the pleasure.

They were comfortable in their skin, knew each other better than themselves, owned up to each bomb that made them tic with need.

They moved with each other like tides and they didn’t need words to speak. They just knew. Strange desires included.

“You shaved me down yesterday.” It wasn’t an attempt as a counterattack, it was a counter-statement. They didn’t pin one another with the needles of shaming, not when they shared everything they desired.

Harry hummed against the top of his head, rubbing his scruffy chin into the soft fringe between his lips. “I did. I love to shave you.”

He did. Louis arrived in Los Angeles with grown out hair on his body, tired bones from the airplane, and was then shaved entirely clean from head to toe in the big bathtub Harry loved so much. Harry filled it with fancy products and decorated it with candles and flowers and sank them both into the warm water. He massaged expensive oils and creams into Louis’ soft skin after he dragged the razor to rid him of hair everywhere, being careful and gentle. He shaved his boy, left his body smooth and entirely bare in yet another way that no one but him would be able to see.

“I love you,” Louis whispered, worming his neck from the confinement of weight and tilting his head to meet Harry’s. The man matched his low-lidded stare, green eyes narrowed on a thin pink mouth.

“And I love you,” Harry muttered back, rubbing their noses thrice before meeting their lips.

It was nothing rushed, slow-paced and lax, tongues peeking out to caress gently. It was one of the best types of kisses, domestic and sweet despite the morning-breath, just enjoying each other’s mouths out of love and want. Their hands intertwined naturally, calm and thumbs rubbing over the back of the other’s, and Harry left Louis’ lips to place wet, lazy open-mouthed puckered kisses against his neck.

“What’s the plan today?” Louis sighed, twisting his free hand in messy curls.

Harry sucked gently for just a quick second before lifting his head up. Somehow, he’d ended up hovering over the boy, big and overpowering as always.

“Could make you breakfast, ‘ve got to hit the gym.”

If Harry was anything, he’d be determined and confident. He was always sure of himself, knew how to fit in with every walk of life, wanted to learn how to do everything and anything. He wanted to learn and then be the best at it. Working out was his favorite and he loved pushing his body to the point of exhaustion, something Louis never understood when the man would return to him sweaty and sore and panting like a dog.

“You gonna sit with me?” Louis pouted, hated being alone when they could be together. He used to be unsure of himself in their relationship, too worried to show how much he needed Harry or share everything on his mind. They both got over it quickly, all embarrassment has wilted away over the years after all they’d seen.

The clinginess Louis felt was equally matched by Harry at all times. It was maybe one of their faults, the constant need to be with one another, and it had definitely ruined them a few times, but it wasn’t something that either could change.

“Of course,” Harry responded against his lips, barely moving them with a few twitches that bumped against Louis’ own.

Louis hummed, a pleased little smile wrinkling his eyes, and Harry’s eyes sparkled. His bunny teeth, the two big front ones Louis adored so much, bit at his plump bottom lip.

“Love when you do that,” He whispered, a dimple popping even when he was trying not to smile, and his thumb coming to move the wrinkled skin by Louis’ eyes. He let his thumb just rest there, other fingers holding Louis’ cheek and jaw easily with the large expanse of his hands. His steady, strong, huge hands that held Louis’ heart so surely in, the ones that held Louis—it was another feature of Harry’s body that he admired always.

“Love when you do that,” Louis answered back, poking at a dimple before ducking in the warmth of Harry’s bare neck. He still never slept in clothes, but always made sure Louis was covered in a shirt for unspoken reasons.

They didn’t say anything after that, just moved their mouths slowly together and nuzzled the exposed skin that they could reach. Harry got up at some point, throwing on shorts and a tank and trainers, and then came to carry Louis the entire way to the kitchen.

He’s always lugged him around like Louis didn’t have working legs. Everyone did it, really, but it was always more special whenever Harry did something for Louis. Carrying him around like Harry’s bride or like Harry was a fireman rescuing him or hanging from him like a backpack or over his hip like a baby, it was all one of the ordinarily special—special ordinary things they did.

He set him down to start working on Louis’ breakfast and Louis went to work preparing the disgusting protein drinks that Harry loved. He drank them before and after his workouts and even just because. It made Louis gag, but he’d gotten used to it.

Harry kept Louis’ breakfast light—only an odd mix of the two favorite cereals Louis loved—because he wanted to take Louis out to some restaurant all his uber cool friends suggested. They worked in comfortable silence, the silence that comes with years of listening and talking and knowing, bumping hips or chasing lips every once in a while.

They ate at the island in the kitchen—they’re such liars, it’s always been an island, never really sat at the kitchen table in any of their homes because it required effort and poshness—Louis sat and Harry stood beside him, caging him in as he sipped on his smoothie and resting his chin in the crook of Louis’ shoulder. They talked in easy conversation, the conversation that comes with years of always wanting to hear each other speak and never running out of things to say.

Harry critiqued his smoothie-making skills—teased him because he didn’t let it blend long enough—but praised him like it was the best thing he’s ever drank. He raised the spoon to Louis’ lips when Louis was still chewing because that was yet another thing for Harry. He liked to watch Louis eat, called him a bunny sometimes because of the way he chewed. He liked making sure that Louis was well-fed and his belly was full, the result of Louis’ poor eating habits and weight loss years ago.

He made Louis drink all the milk, too, chatting in his ear about something he’d read on the news about the NHS while patting his bloated belly. Harry’s hands and cheek always found Louis’ belly, his silly obsession with it always tickled Louis with giggles.

They brushed their teeth together after lazily making out again, then trailed to the make-shift gym Harry was working on fixing up to hold all his things. Louis was comfortably tucked under Harry’s arm, his own hand fisted at Harry’s lower back with his shirt clenched tightly.

“How long are you gonna be?” Louis asked, plopping on his white fluffy bean bag that Harry had already known to put in here just for him.

“Maybe an hour?” He winced as he stretched, long limbs showing off his wide wingspan and muscles. “Then you’ve got that thing later and we can go shower and head out.”

Louis didn’t even remember the thing, but it was something about the shows in Australia. He’d think about it later when he had to, but now he was playing weird games on Harry’s phone. He added songs on the queue when he thought of something he’d wanted to hear, interrupting Harry’s workout playlist with random songs that disrupt the high-beat flow. Harry was used to the different changes in pace for the music when Louis had his phone, their tastes were so different.

He answered emails for Harry, made notes in his calendar for him, logged out of his email and into his own to do the same, all on Harry’s big iPhone. Louis kind of missed the phones, but he was too proud to go back now. He went through his photos out of boredom when a memory notification popped up, snorting when it was an inappropriate glimpse into their bedroom life.

Harry had a fascination with photography and Louis’ body, he proclaimed, and sometimes the two went together, when he’d bend Louis over and line them up, bare bum and cock nestled together for the camera. His big hand rested on a cheek, rings and tight grips, just above a red handprint. He was such a twat.

He heard a pant echo off somewhere and it sprung Louis into action. He fetched water from the fridge they had in there and handed it over to Harry, who was breathing like a dog, tongue out and red in the face and sweaty and already shirtless, hunched over on the treadmill.

He smiled gratefully and Louis slung the white towel over his neck, just doing his doting duty. He was here to make sure the man didn’t work himself into a comatose state, pass out from dehydration, or trigger an asthma attack. He had the inhaler on the beanbag.

“Running from me?”

Harry huffed out, an attempt at a laugh, standing straight and wiggling his legs out. “I’d have to run like hell to do that. You’re fast, baby.” On the platform, he towered over Louis more than he usually did, and he leaned forward and waggled his brows because he knew it too. “But I am ready to run if you’re gonna make a break for it.”

Louis rolled his eyes but he was smiling regardless. “Beat a record?”

“Nah,” Harry gasped as he downed the entire bottle in three gulps. “Just a quick two miles.”

Harry’s athleticism amazed Louis at all times. He was built for physical fitness, a beautiful body that was strong and sturdy enough to do anything. He was amazing at every sport he’s tried, rock climbing to footie to American football to swimming to running to golf to his bloody performances. Louis didn’t understand how he was so perfectly talented, he was a God among them he believed.

Louis didn’t work out much, just played footie with his mates and with a few kids clubs around Donny or alone with Harry. They were competitive. Harry has stamina and strength and could plow Louis to the ground, but Louis was quick and lithe and full of sharp turns and cheated on the rare times Harry already wasn’t or wouldn’t let the smaller boy win.

“Come spot me,” Harry panted, still breathless. He led them over to the weight rack and they both knew that Louis could probably break his arms if he tried to spot him, but it was a pretense for the sake of being close.

Louis sat on the bench as Harry lifted the circular metal plates onto the silver bar and this was Louis’ favorite part. He loved watching Harry run, see how his usually thin long legs and thighs and calves flexed the muscles that were there but hardly shown. But Harry lifting heavy weights stirred something inside Louis obviously enough that made it onto the list of things between them.

He packed on an impressive amount of weight on the bar before sitting in front of Louis, legs split over the bench.

“That’s a lot you're packing, Styles. Who ya doing it for?” Louis waggled his eyebrows, cheeky smile pressing his face as he reached out to pinch Harry’s left nipple.

Harry smirked back at him, catching his hand in a practiced grip from years of Louis. “Packin’ all this for you, baby.” He brought their hands down to the front of his shorts, half-hard cock bulging warm against the fabric and burning Louis.

Louis’ face turned red with flustering bashfulness and his eyes widened in shock of the gesture. Even after Louis thinks he’s grown used to Harry’s unashamed sexual comfort and brash flirting, Harry pulls something like this. His confidence was probably another one of their things.

“Jesus, H, really? Right now?” And of course, Louis shouldn’t be surprised. Harry grew hard at the drop of a hat, it’d gotten them in quite a few strange predicaments. Exercise, weed, alcohol, performing, domesticity, Louis existing really, were all things that Harry said got him going.

Harry smiled, keeping their hands on his clothed cock. He didn’t press them on, just kept them a light weight on him.

“You look so fucking good, love. Snuggled in the corner on your fluffy pillow, not having to work out to be so fucking perfect, just playing on my phone with access to all my things.”

Louis wanted to laugh but the trust between them always made him burst in adoration. They had no secrets between them, knew each other’s national insurance numbers, joint fucking bank accounts. They’d given themselves to the other entirely and fuck, if that didn’t turn Louis on in the slightest.

“Reckon you’ve got the flu or something,” Louis gulped, trying to find his voice before he was lost to the role he played very well, the one beneath Harry like they loved it to be. “Or could be the devil.”

Harry chuckled out the side of his smirk, forcing the nubs of Louis’ knuckles to walk slowly over the length of his half-hard cock. “‘S only you, love.”

His intense, burning stare that was his most intimidating look, scared even Louis sometimes, never faltered, even when Louis tried to curl his fingers around his cock to turn this into more.

Harry tutted, squeezing Louis’ fingers roughly with only three of his own. “Didn’t say you could do anything, babe,” He spoke slowly and surely, deep and commanding. Louis knew he was slipping, too.

“‘M not even done working out and you’ve got me feeling this way. Look what you’ve done to me, baby,” Harry firmly pressed their hands down, using his free hand to grip Louis’ thigh to bring him to his lap.

The bench wasn’t wide enough for Louis to sit comfortably, but his legs rested on Harry’s thighs and his bum sat against the top of his knees. His feet dangled in the air because he was propped up so high by Harry and his cock was poking right at Louis’ bum. Harry was the best seat in the house.

“What should we do about it?” Harry asked as he used his hands to push Louis’ hips down, maneuvering him in slow circles on his cock. Dry-humping was another Louis thing, wished he was bare and Harry was fully clothed and he could show off how dirty and desperate he could be.

“I-I don’t know,” Louis whispered, fingers coming to grab onto Harry’s shoulders. The man came to nibble at his collarbone, keeping the slow pace of Louis’ hips. He was still damp and sticky with sweat and his smell filled Louis’ nose so wonderfully.

“Wanna keep me warm while I finish—“ Harry couldn’t even finish his sentence before Louis was nodding frantically, trying to separate them so he could do what Harry wanted. Harry smirked and patted his hip. “Off you go, darling. Strip.”

Louis hopped off, tossing over the loose shirt of Harry’s he wore to sleep and removing his trackies. It was so terrifying, it made Louis’ body shiver, as he was standing there vulnerable and naked, being studied under Harry’s dark gaze.

“Look at you, so fucking perfect and gorgeous. So obedient and slutty. That’s what makes you beautiful,” Harry bit as his lip and raised his brows. He looked pleased with himself, ruining the mood with a corny joke. “You okay to play, love?”

A consent check, one of the many that always gave the green light to be like this, because Harry was nothing short of caring and giving and wonderful. Louis nodded and then confessed his want out loud when Harry shot him a look.

“Yes, I-I want to play.”

“Good,” Harry looked proud, scratching at his scruff and wiping sweat off with the towel. “Let me inspect you, pet.”

Louis rushed to stand by Harry, who moved him whichever way he pleased. He parted Louis’ cheeks, pressing kisses down his delicate back before breathing over Louis’ hole. It was loose from yesterday’s many rounds of playtime and loving care. He ran the pads of his index finger and thumb over it, massaging the dark ring before dipping into the pink. It was dry and had Louis’ tensing in stifling a moan and a step away.

It wasn’t painful, just a rough drag that Louis’ used to. Harry knew anyways, knew what made Louis’ body tic and what didn’t. He was pushed over the bench, hands holding his body up in a bent-over position like a doll being played with.

The thick fingers left to spread him more roughly, hole exposed completely and stretched wide. It was almost painful this way, he could feel it straining to wink up at Harry, but then he felt spit land right on top of his hole, flinching at the surprise. He couldn’t stop the tiny noise that escaped him, swaying with the effect Harry had on him.

He felt it drip down before Harry spit again, spreading it over with his fingers and dipping inside his hole again. It was still rough, but Harry went straight to that special spot that made Louis huff and choke out.

“Please, please,” Louis pushed his body back, chasing that feeling of Harry’s thick fingers jack-rabbiting against his prostate.

“Please what? What are you asking me?” Harry did this, it was one of their things, where he pretended he didn’t know exactly what Louis needed.

“P-Play with my hole again.” He wasn’t thinking anymore, just running with the adrenaline he was filled with and doing what Harry asked of him.

It was the wrong thing to say, Louis knew it as soon as he said it. He didn’t make any commands, not when they were being like this, and he knew better. He knew his place and he deserved the delicious smack against his cheek, a heavy hand rubbing the stink immediately after.

“Nicely,” Harry reprimanded, fingers still dancing against his skin, not where Louis needed them. “You know better.”

He did. Louis was going to do better. He loved to please and serve and be Harry’s and be taken care of and he was going to do it.

“C-Can you please play with my hole again?”

Harry hummed, pressing just the tip of his finger inside before removing it and landing two more smacks with each hand. Louis moaned with the jiggle of his cheeks, with the bite of the slap, wanted more and wiggled his ass out to ask for it.

“No,” Harry left him completely, lying flat against the bench and scrolling on his phone to pause the music that had still been playing. “Gonna lift now, come keep me warm.”

He took out his cock, just his cock, and Louis’ mouth watered at the mere sight of it. Harry had a gorgeous dick, Louis could spend a lifetime worshipping it and playing with it and holding it and keeping it warm. It was perfect, long and thick and too large to even be real. It was girthy and veiny and the perfect color and even the small curls around the base were so pretty.

“You’re fucking gagging for it, aren’t you?”

It was obvious, humiliatingly obvious that Louis loves Harry’s cock more than anything else in the world possible. He wanted to always have it in his mouth or in his hands or in him, just wanted to please Harry and be good. Louis nodded, trying to reach out to touch it and Harry smacked his hand away.

“I said keep it warm and I meant with your greedy little hole, slut,” Harry hissed, glaring dagger at Louis as goosebumps shivered across his skin. He loved this, they loved this. They understood what they needed and when and now was a perfect demonstration.

Louis was quick to straddle him, letting Harry slap the head of his cock against his hole and rub off between his cheeks before letting the head snag inside for a brief second. He whimpered, trying his best to sit on it fully, but Harry held him still.

“You’re being so needy today, baby. Missed it that much?” Harry mocked, running a big hand over Louis’ chest, circling his nipples with a finger lightly. Louis knew better than to lean into it, held himself still as Harry teased him everywhere he could with the head of his cock circling his hole.


He cut Louis off with a quick pinch to his nipple, sharp and biting and just on the best side of pain, and sent him a look. “Sit on it, baby. Keep me warm while I bench this out and then we can play some more. You’ll be good, won’t you? Just sit still and look pretty for me, my little slut.”

He placed a rough palm on Louis’ cheek, thumb running over his nose before creeping into his mouth. Another one of Louis’ things, his preference for holding something in his mouth, anything that belonged to Harry belonged in Louis’ mouth. Louis took the thick digit easily, wrapping his tongue around as much as he could and opening for the other two Harry was shoving in, all while slowly being guided down by Harry’s left hand.

Louis could fall asleep like this, in the comfort of being filled by Harry everywhere he could be, keeping him warm and caring for each other in all the intimate ways they knew. He has fallen asleep like this, being stuffed with Harry’s fingers and cock in their bed or while watching telly on the couch or in the office while Harry worked. It was their clinginess maybe and sometimes it was hard to pinpoint who needed it more.

The intensity of their connection made Louis gasp as he was fully nestled on Harry’s lap, warmth and love and fucking heat. His mouth was wide open, tongue sticking out on his bottom lip with the weight of Harry’s fingers pressing down and he felt like he was entering the little paradise they’ve created for themselves.

He loved feeling every inch of Harry’s cock pressing inside of him firmly, stretching him so wide and squeezing into his hole so slowly, like he couldn’t fit it all in. They worked hard to find this level of understanding, fought against everything that tried to tear them apart including themselves, and having their connection be intensified by sex made Louis slip so easily.

“Love you,” Harry mumbled before retracting his fingers to grip the metal bar above his head. He was lying on his back, feet planted firmly on the ground as his arms were bracing to carry the weighted rack. Louis’ feet were still dangling above the floor, could topple over easily if one of them moved wrong, could seriously hurt Harry if Harry lost concentration and let go of the silver bar.

He’d be more concerned if he didn’t trust Harry with his life. He’d be more concerned if they weren’t used to doing stupid, unconventional, risky, dangerous things during sex like this. He’d be more concerned if Harry just wanted to have sex without doing something along the lines they wrote for themselves.

“I-I love you,” Louis whispered back and he worried it fell on deaf ears as Harry stared at the bar and wiggled his grip a few times in concentration, but his face broke into a small smile that made Louis feel the same rush of red from all those years ago.

He could feel Harry’s cock pulse inside of him, moving ever so slightly when Harry squared his shoulders and tensed his biceps, bracing his body to lift the bar. He did it so easily, taking it off the rack and bringing the bar with all the circular weights on the end close to his bare chest, and then lifting it with straight arms high in the air.

Fuck, Louis could feel that word and that emotion consume him.

Harry had grown up so much, Louis had too, but Harry was his. He wasn’t the cherub with tight curly coils and baby fat on his hips. He wasn’t only an inch taller than Louis, he wasn’t a teen boy with a weird fashion who couldn’t stop flirting and didn’t know what to do with all the charm he had. He wasn’t even the boy who wore skin-tight skinny jeans and boots and looked like every American fratboy in all the romance movies. He wasn’t the boy with the long curly hair and the newly designed suits that were slightly eccentric.

He was a man, a fucking man. He’d grown into his skin, hit puberty with one of his vintage cars that he whined to Louis in their bed about how he wanted it. He was fucking gorgeous, lose curls cut short because of his project––movie––and more muscular than he’d ever been. He was huge, broad and beefy and sweaty and fit and so fucking hot. His facial hair that Louis loved so much was still spotted along his jaw and the in-between stages of his mustache was there, the scratches left behind on Louis’ body stung with the memory of last night.

He was a man, confident and brilliant and lovely with the world at his feet and doing so good, and he was with Louis. He was the man that Louis would die with, for, because of. He was Louis’ and they fucking made it. He was inside Louis, throbbing and poking right at his sweet spot when he went to lift again.

“Nngh––” Louis squealed, biting down on his lip and digging his nails into the abs that flexed with every movement Harry made. His cock was fully hard, tiny and poking the air with a bead of precum on his tip.

Harry looked to him, burning green eyes dark and unblinking as he lifted the bar up again, cheeks puffed as he gasped for air. He grinded his hips slowly, cock bumping and sliding inside of Louis so good that he twitched in on himself, trying to keep still so badly.

“Count for me, slut,” Harry commanded, smirking at Louis’ tiny cock bouncing with his thrust upward. Louis knew not to move, not to do anything without permission even if Harry was doing something.

“O-Okay,” Louis squeaked, breathless when Harry went back to working out. Harry did ten easily, pausing for a break and a few more teasing grinds, arrogant smirk and dimple mocking Louis whenever he moaned or squeaked.

Harry went back at it again, working out with such finesse it was as if he didn’t have a naked boy whimpering on his cock. He had totally blocked the boy out, ignoring Louis’ sounds when he was heaving the bar up and down over his head, and it was so fucking humiliating, sitting on his lap with his fat cock inside his hole and wanting to cry over how still he was being, feeling so much but not enough—all while Harry was going about his business so casually.

It was humiliating and it was good, it was just what Louis needed. He needed to be good for Harry, be nothing but a warm hole.

He didn’t realize he had stopped counting, didn’t even realize his hips were grinding in slow circles against Harry’s hips, using the hard abs against his hands as leverage. He didn’t realize it until it jolted against his prostate, small bounces making him gasp and moan loudly, and it seemed as if Harry didn’t realize it either.

Louis was getting away with it, kept his half-closed eyes on Harry’s face, so attracted to what he looked like while he was lifting more than Louis’ body weight above his head. Harry was slowing down, face dropping concentration and eyes closing as he caught his breath. He was so gorgeous and he was all Louis’ and Louis was all his.

“Mmph,” Louis bit at his lip, his own cock throbbing with how close he could get to releasing, right on Harry’s happy trail. God, he fucking loved how Harry was growing his hair out.

He hadn’t shaved his face, his beard and mustache rubbed against him so deliciously when they cuddled and when Harry nuzzled into his neck and when he went down on him. His chest hair was flat against his chest, heavy with sweat, and his happy trail wasn’t a straight line. It was unkempt and there were sparse hairs all over and even his dark pubes were so fucking hot to Louis.

Louis loved Harry’s body, all natural and however it grew to be, and Harry loved Louis’ body as it was now. He spent hours shaving Louis down, making him smooth and soft in a way that no one ever saw from Louis. He only had the hair on his head and eyebrows and eyelashes, but every other strand was shaven. And Louis liked it too, because Harry liked it and because it made him feel so much prettier. And he liked being pretty in private for Harry, liked being himself and soft and taken care of, just another one of their things.

Harry suddenly sat up, chest heaving and face red with exertion and sweat sliding all over his body that Louis wanted to lick up, and he looked upset. He startled Louis out of his lust-driven thoughts, eyes dashing from Harry’s abs to his dark eyes.

“Already said you couldn’t move, told you but I know you never listen ‘cause you’re a fucking slut,” Harry grunted, squeezing Louis’ cheeks between two of his fingers rough enough to make it ache.

Louis grimaced in the hold, less from the pinch and more because he got caught. He should’ve known better, he never gets away with anything with Harry. Harry knows him, inside and out, and can read his body and mind a million miles away, nonetheless right on his cock.

“I asked you a question, Louis,” Harry gritted out, hand smacking against Louis’ ass hard enough to jolt him forward. His cock bumped right against Harry’s happy trail and the cock inside him grinded against his spot so wonderfully, he could feel himself start to fall.

“Huh?” Louis slurred, mouth scrunched with the squish of Harry’s fingers and drool starting to pool against his bottom lip.

Harry rolled his eyes, narrowing them condescendingly. “What was your purpose, baby?”

Louis gulped. “T-To keep you warm while you worked out and keep still.” Harry raised an eyebrow, obviously not satisfied with his response. “T-To be y-your fleshlight?”

Harry smirked, scoffing like the smug bastard he was. He was so bloody confident, a damn arrogant son of a bitch, it’s got him in trouble a couple of times. But now, with Louis shamed with red all over his drooling face, Louis couldn’t find any inch of him that wasn’t turned on by it.

“That’s right, pet. You’re my toy, my pretty doll, my little cocksleeve. You’re here to be good for me, to pleasure me. But you got greedy, didn’t you?”

Louis could only nod, his fall from sanity was coming faster and faster. His head that always felt like it was screwed on too tight, felt like he was always drowning under the pressure of everyone else’s direction, was starting to float far far away from him. He didn’t like being told what to do by anyone and he always had to anyway, but Harry wasn’t anyone.

Harry was Louis’, the one person who took care of him better than anyone else, who knew how to command and take and give and love. He was handing over the reigns on his body and on his mind, already signed his signature on whatever soul-binding contract that would tie him to Harry forever.

“Can’t even speak anymore, huh? Just my dumb doll, my pretty Louis,” Harry released his cheeks, massaging them over gently just once, and lifted him up. Louis scrambled to hold on, still bonded by Harry’s cock in him and his big hands grabbing onto his thighs. He didn’t know where they were going, but he didn’t need to.

He had Harry and Harry was going to take care of him.

He felt himself being tossed onto their couch, the soft cream colors of their living room coming into view. It wasn’t their house, they’d long been finished with houses in America for the time being, but Louis was adamant on hanging the fairy lights. It made Louis feel safe, in the soft glow of the yellow string lights and the soft fluffy blankets and cuddled into Harry.

Louis tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed him back down.

“You have business to attend to, darling. You’ve got a meeting in fifteen, remember?”

The reminder startled him, still slow and pliant. He pouted, shaking his head until he got dizzy. “Reschedule it, I don’t wanna go. It’s just gonna make me upset,” He grumbled, trying to use his legs to pull Harry down to him. Harry went, the face of a disappointed parent on him.

“I don’t think you should miss, honey,” Harry said gently, brushing the fringe off Louis’ forehead with soft fingertips. Louis pouted again.

“But ‘m all hard. And you are, too. I want to play, I thought we were going to––”

“Who said we weren’t going to play? I’m still going to play with you, just cos you’re in a meeting doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun,” Harry interrupted, fingers sliding down Louis’ face to make a trail down his body.

He smoothed his way down, stopping at his sternum to rub at Louis’ nipples, then continued down to his tummy to circle his belly button. Went on to Louis bare pubic bone, petting at it and tracing shapes into it that made Louis squirm with how sensitive it felt.

“So soft, pet. Love when you’re like this, soft and smooth and hairless,” Harry mumbled into the skin of his belly, the vibrations tickling Louis enough to make him giggle. Harry smiled up at him, a dimpled grin biting at his bottom lip. “Love you.”

“I love you,” Louis answered automatically, hands twitching at his sides to touch. But Harry never said he could, doesn’t want to be in any more trouble.

“You’re going to attend the meeting and I’m going to play with you however I want because that’s what I get to do with my toy. And you’re going to be good enough to make me forget how greedy you were earlier,” Harry instructed as if reading Louis’ mind.

Louis nodded eagerly and obediently. “Yeah, I am––I will be good.”

“Good boy, baby,” Harry pinched at his cheek like a child, standing from his spot and leaving Louis on the couch. He looked so tall like that, stretching his body that was still only in shorts and and stupid white socks and trainers. “I’m gonna fetch your laptop and a sweater for you.”

He came back quickly, Louis slowly coming back to himself just enough for him to make it through a management meeting coherently. He pulled Louis’ lax body up, putting on the black hoodie that was an old one with rainbow letters embroidered across the chest. It was big and soft and it was the one Louis liked the most out of all the tour merchandise Harry had.

Harry opened up the computer, typing in Louis’ password and opening up the Zoom meeting that was scheduled to start in a bit. He gave Louis a kiss on the temple.

“Want you to set the laptop on the couch and for you to sit on your knees in front of it,” Harry muttered into his neck, palm sliding over Louis’ thighs so close to the heat that was still throbbing between his legs, but never touching.

It sprung Louis into action. He placed the laptop on the couch and kneeled in front of it. Harry watched him move for a bit, lifting him up so he hovered over the floor and Louis shivered because he knew what Harry was planning.

“Keep your eyes and head forward, when your meeting starts. ‘S rude to not pay attention to your team,” Harry tutted, positioning Louis’ head forward from where it had dropped between his shoulders.

They kissed softly once, twice, before Harry patted his cheek and disappeared behind him. The laptop screen said two minutes and Harry was already laid on the ground below Louis, his bum hovering over Harry’s face.

“F-Fuck, Harry, you’re going to—”

“Shut up and fucking paying attention to the screen. Don’t fuck this up, darling.” He growled out, spanking him once hard enough for Louis to squeak, for his body to move forward and for his cheek to jiggle with the commotion.

“I-Sorry, I will,” Louis blurted, just seconds before the meeting link turned blue and was ready to join. He took a shaky breath, feeling Harry’s own breath blow against his hole and his big hands wrap around his upper thighs ready to bring his body down on his waiting tongue.

He clicked the link, greetings welcoming him just as he was pushed down, sitting right on Harry’s mouth. Harry wasted no time in pressing in, licking into Louis’ hole like he was fucking starving. Louis swallowed a whimper as he said hello.

His team all made small talk that Louis tried to involve himself in as much as possible, but it was hard when Harry wiggled his tongue relentlessly against his prostate. It felt so good, he loved being eaten out. Harry was so good at it, he loved doing just as much as Louis loved receiving. He could eat Louis out for hours, had made him cry so many times before because of it, liked when Louis sat on his face and could barely hold himself up after.

Louis was grateful for Harry’s breath control, he could suffocate Harry for long enough for it to make him close, but Harry pushed him up before he could gasp out for more.

“U-Um, thank you,” Louis responded, not entirely sure what they’ve just begun clapping for. But everyone was clapping and cheering at him and he didn’t want to ask them to repeat what they’d been talking about for ten minutes.

Harry pulled him back down, pressing kisses all along his hole and spreading him open with firm fingers. He nibbled along this taint, rubbing it with a finger as his tongue dove back in his hole. Louis wanted to come so badly, wanted to close the laptop shut and say fuck all, and beg Harry to let him cum. Harry shoved three fingers in quickly and without any warning, pushing them aside to squeeze his tongue in.

He felt Harry’s other hand cup his cheek and spread it open widely, digging into him to bruise and leave him sore for days. It was a lot, Harry’s tongue petting at his walls while his fingers probed at his special spot was too much for him to keep quiet and he gasped. He gasped loudly, too, whoever was speaking at the time stopping in concern.

“Y’alright, Louis?” Greg from the management team asked, everyone else with puzzled looks on their faces. Harry pinched at the skin on his thigh with two blunt nails, forcing Louis to silently squeak and stop the flutter of his eyes.

“Y-yeah, sorry. Just, um, h-hurt me-self. Nothing t’worry ‘bout,” He stuttered, sending a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t clenched tightly in Harry’s hair. His hand was so close to his own cock, he could easily touch it from where it rested against the strands of brown on Harry’s head.

He couldn’t though, he was being good. He just watched as his tiny cock hung over Harry’s head, small enough to only cover a part of it, twitching and leaking drops of precum into the curls. It looked so pathetically red and it was burning with the need of release. Every jab to his prostate made his sensitive cock give a small bounce and he needed more.

“Mm,” Louis panted under his breath, quiet enough that his box wasn’t even outlined in green. He clenched around Harry’s fingers and tongue, lifting himself to give him any sort of break from the torture against him, but Harry kept him firmly in his place.

He peeked down and saw Harry’s narrowed eyes already staring up at him, judging him and making him burn red in embarrassment. He quickly looked back to the screen.

They asked for his input on a few merch ideas and he answered to the best of his capabilities with his eyes on the verge of closing and releasing tears. His voice cracked and he whimpered and stuttered his way through every response. He wavered when Harry crooked his fingers and ran them over and over his prostate, coughing to cover his gasp when Harry sucked his rim hard. He twitched violently enough that people asked if he was having a seizure and he had to assure them that it was just cold, despite him sweating under the hoodie.

Harry slipped out from under him, rolling away looking flushed and gasping for air. He was still drenched in sweat, probably hasn’t dried since he started working out. He smirked at Louis, who gulped at him and reverted his eyes to the screen.

His knees were aching from the carpet burn and his hole was gaping from all the teasing it’s gone through in the past two hours, in the past two days. Fuck, he wanted this meeting to be over.

Harry disappeared for a moment, maybe to get water or to laugh at how affected Louis was, and Louis took a big breath to concentrate. He did a lot better without Harry fingering him and fucking him with his tongue, but he was still nowhere near as professional as he should’ve been.

“I think that I could do the interview with AP, but I don’t want any—”

An arm wrapping around his waist interrupted him, pushing him back onto a long and thick cock that was held steady by the other hand, and Harry nuzzled his big nose into his neck as a guise.

“Shh, baby,” Harry whispered when Louis squirmed and gave a whimper. “Hello everyone!” Harry waved, tucked comfortably into Louis’ shoulder and neck, smiling like he hadn’t just stuffed his cock into Louis’ hole.

Lube. He had disappeared to go get lube. His hole was open enough that he didn’t even have to clutch for air at the stretch, just felt Harry slide in easily and quickly. Harry was making small talk with the team, asking specific questions to each person there because Harry was insanely polite.

“Oh, I just finished up a workout. Really broke a sweat. Just wanted to come on and say hello and thank you for taking care of my boy. I’m sure you’re all as proud as I am. Sold out shows in Australia? Moving to bigger venues? So, so, so proud of him,” Harry said sweetly, voice controlled and even.

He was always so much better at pretending like nothing was happening, insisting it’s because he was a serious actor, but Louis reckons it was just a curse against Louis. He could talk his way through meetings with Louis on his knees, keeping his cock warm or sucking him off, could do vocal warm-ups backstage while fucking Louis’ back out. He was a phenomenal multi-tasker and has done all that and more to Louis, who ate up every single second of it.

“Lou, baby, they asked if you had anything more to say,” Harry nudged him, forcing him to stand straight and rid himself of his slouched posture. It only sheathed him further inside Louis, snug and warm and so big.

Louis startled again, clenching around the cock that was pressing into him but not doing anything else. He could feel it pulse when he clenched down and he was feeling fuzzy.

“Um, no. I-I’m good,” He mumbled, averting his eyes to the fairy lights.

Harry took hold of the conversation, bidding everyone goodbye and other pleasantries, promising to make sure Louis gets his tasks done. He shut the laptop closed and pushed it aside harshly, pressing Louis to bend over the couch just as rough.

“Jesus fucking Christ, baby, I’m so fucking proud of you,” Harry gritted through clenched teeth, thrusting into Louis finally. It was deep and hard and nailed him in the best spot in the best way and anymore of it and Louis was going to come.

Louis gasped, clutching onto the sweater paws he’s made, burying his forehead into the cushion. “H-Harry, please. Can I, please, please, Did I do good? Please tell me I did good, I-I tried to do g-good, H, please,” Louis pleaded, words coming fast and jumbled as he was moved with every press of Harry’s body.

It was nothing but warmth and sharp jolts of pleasure that sent tingles down his entire body.

“You did so fucking good, baby. Sold out shows all around the world, baby, God, you’re so fucking amazing. I love you and I’m so proud,” Harry moaned out, digging his nails in the base of Louis’ hair to yank him back. It was an awkward angle for Louis, body pressed into the couch while his upper body arched back to Harry’s chest.

“Ah, H-Harry,” Louis choked out once a hand circled his neck and cut off his airflow. “H-Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.”

It was all he could say, the only word he knew, like a safety net that blanketed around him while he was floating far away. He was swimming in cool water, body numbing and tingling all at once. He was slipping into his special place and falling into paradise.

“Love you so much, baby, so proud of you. You’re the bestest—fuck, fuck, you’re so good. Did so good, feel so good around me. So good Lou,” Harry muttered against his neck, alternating between sucking harsh marks into the skin and biting teeth indents, to placing wet kisses everywhere he could reach.

“C-Can I?” Louis asked again, desperate to release. Harry drilled into him without any mercy, the slapping noise of their bodies echoing in the silence with their harsh breaths and groans.

“Mm, go ahead baby,” Harry answered into his skin, licking at the column of Louis’ neck over and over again. He reached in front of Louis, took hold of his little cock so easily with just a few fingers, and squeezed it between Louis’ body and the couch. “Give me two tonight, it’s your reward. No touching, pet, just want you to rub yourself off like the slut that you are.”

“T-Thank you!” Louis squeaked, chasing after the friction. The burn of the pleasure from the rough texture of the couch that was rubbing against his cock felt amazing and Louis could feel the tears start to fall when Harry picked up his quick pace.

“You’re so slutty, baby. So desperate to cum that you’ll rub your little dick—your clit on the couch. Do anything to cum, won’t you?”

“Fu-ck,” Louis hiccupped, nodding his head as much as Harry’s hand would allow. A seam on the cushion was giving him exactly what he needed, catching on the head of his cock and rubbing on his vein, and he pushed forward into it, before pushing back against Harry’s brutal thrusts.

He was torn between the pleasure he was receiving on both sides, wanting to feel both but having to alternate between the stimulation. He kept humping against the couch, grinding against the seam that dragged just right, clutching onto Harry’s strong wrist for some support as he stumbled over the edge.

“F-Fuck, Harry! Ah,” Louis sobbed, body twitching violently with the blurts of come that ribboned from his body. His entire body was thrumming with the white wash of pleasure, his eyes crossed before his body slumped in Harry’s hold.

He heard Harry’s mumbled praises, felt him slow to a stop and felt kisses and hands rubbing over his body in soothing squeezes. He was pushed flat against the couch, bent over completely with his tiny cock trapped. It was sensitive, causing Louis to whimper at the burn of his cock being pushed into his own mess.

“You look so good, baby. Such a slut,” Harry breathed out in his ear, petting him softly. He trailed his hands down to Louis’ ass, spanking him a few times and jiggling the cheeks around his cock. Louis whimpered, wiggling for more of Harry’s touch. “Love your hole, baby. So tight for me.”

He traced a finger over Louis’ stuffed rim, forcing a twitch out of his spent body. He heard the snap of the cap of lube, already preparing his dizzy body for more. It was what he wanted, what they liked, to push Louis over the edge, for him to fall into space and lose himself.

“Look at that,” Harry whispered in wonder, his thick pointer finger sneaking into the wet slick mess of his hole

“Mm,” Louis tried to respond but only a slip of noise crawled from the back of his throat, opened mouthed and got sloppy with his own drool that slipped between his lips and pooled on the cushion beside his cheek.

Harry kept the finger in, circling it against the slide of Louis’ walls, before pushing up. “Bet I can fit my cock in here, baby. Your hole would just eat it up, huh. Even after you’ve made a mess, you’re so slutty, pet.”

He slowly inched forward, his cock slipping below his finger and God, it was so fucking good. Even with how sensitive his body felt, the tingles that danced in his vision and throughout his veins, he still wanted more. He could take more, he has taken more, he wanted it. He needed it.

“H-arry,” Louis cried, shoulders jumping with the overwhelming bite of everything. “H-arry, ‘arry.”

Harry shushed him, pushing another thick finger in. He was so stretched, could feel his body burning to take all that Harry was giving him. It felt like he was on fire, lit with Harry fucking all their passion into his tight hole.

“Sold out so many shows, fucking proud, baby. Gonna go to all of ‘em, gonna fuck you before and then fuck you after. Fucking love you, my little rockstar,” Harry bit roughly onto the skin, digging in and making Louis flinch. It felt amazing, being owned and feeling the marks that Harry was branding onto his skin.

“I-I love you,” Louis hiccuped, sobbing as Harry pistoned his hips and wriggled his fingers brutally.

“My little slut, Lou. Slut, slut, slut,” Harry chanted in Louis’ ears, squeezing at his neck and meat of any muscle he could grab at with his free hand. He left a tickling soreness with every pinch and Louis would laugh if he could remember how to do anything but whine. “Look at how you’re taking everything I’m giving you, my fingers and my cock, and you’re tight cunt is swallowing it all. Good, you feel so good.”

It was beginning to tighten Louis’ lower tummy, his veins started to sizzle with the familiar sting of an orgasm, and he was ready to ask for permission when Harry stood up, taking all of Louis’ pleasure with him.

“Nngh,” Louis cried, scrambling around on wobbly knees to reach out for Harry, but the man held a hand to his forehead with an outstretched arm to keep him still like a child. “D-Daddy, w-what?”

The name slipped out of his mouth on instinct, it felt like he had cotton in his mouth and only Harry’s authority in his mind. Harry froze in his stance, still in his workout kit with his cock hanging out. It was kind of funny, but Louis salivated for it more than his need to giggle.

Harry cooed at him from above, dropping his hand to caress Louis’ lips with a thick thumb. “Such a messy mouth, love. Drooling all over yourself like you can’t help it. And you can’t, huh? Can’t control yourself, can’t even think for yourself, so I have to do it for you.”

He pushed his thumb into Louis’ wide mouth, shutting it closed and nodding Louis’ head for him to answer his own question like Louis was an idiot.

Harry sighed, looking down at Louis almost wistfully, petting his face before taking a step closer. His cock came even closer to Louis, red and big and wet with lube. Louis could feel his eyes sparkling and he could hear his throat struggling to swallow. Harry gripped it in his hands, two big things Louis loved so much and yet, he couldn’t have them. He sucked at Harry’s thumb like it would get him what he wanted, but Harry just gripped at his hair tightly.

He brought his face right under his dick, Louis’ nose bumping right on the underside vein. Harry’s cock was long enough to cover his entire face, warm and heavy and smelling just like Harry. Louis mouthed at it, but Harry yanked his hair tighter and angled his head back, slapping him a few times with the weight of his hardness.

“We’re gonna head to the bedroom and I’m gonna fuck you hard enough to make you get yourself all wet again. And then, I’m gonna fuck your mouth even messier and while I do that, you’re gonna come again. Haven’t even decided how yet, but you’re gonna do it,” Harry gritted, tracing all around Louis’ face with his dick. It made him stickier and wetter than his face already was, but just the touch of Harry’s dick felt like enough. “Sound alright, love?”

Three times, fuck, it was a lot. It seemed like so much, so fucking much on Louis already and he’s only come once. But Harry was looking at him with so much determination, like he knew Louis could do it, and Harry knew Louis’ limits better than he did probably. Louis trusted him.

“Y-Yeah, okay, I-I can do it,” Louis rasped out, nodding his head and making Harry’s cock bounce on his face. Louis huffed out in his best attempt to giggle with his breathless voice and Harry sent him a tiny smile, dimple popping out to give him boyish charm.

It was another grounding pause in their game, a quick little break in character for reassurance that they were both enjoying it.

Louis moved to stand, but Harry held him down firmly, slipping his stern, furrowed face on. “Never said you could walk, slut. You’re too dumb to walk, wanna see you on your knees.” He pointed ahead in the direction of their bedroom and Louis nodded his head.

“Go, baby.”

And Louis did, crawled on his hands and knees shuffling painfully on the tiled floor while his head was held up by the threads of his hair. Harry slowed his pace to match Louis’ clumsily and shakily dragged himself along. He wobbled a few times, wincing grateful smiles when the pull on his head kept him upright.

It was so humiliating, crawling like a dog while naked as Harry walked along perfectly fine in clothes. It was humiliating but it was what Louis needed. He’s wound up too tightly these days, overthinking and stressed over everything and anything. He needed Harry to think for him, give him what he needed.

The way down the hall seemed to last forever, but the entire time all Louis could think of was his reward, the reward Harry would grant him, and it helped to make him work quicker. When they finally made it, Harry shoved him forward while standing back and Louis looked for guidance.

“Wanna watch you play with yourself a little, baby,” Harry raised his eyebrows once and Louis continued his way to the bed. He hopped on and it was nice to be back in the little safe space they’ve created. He practically drowned in the soft white sheets and kicked at them to be seen. Harry stood there, dick tucked away in his shorts, arms crossed over his bare chest.

God, his fucking pecs were huge, Louis focused on them as he slowly began to stroke himself. The drag was too dry and his hand got sticky from his dried cum, but anything felt amazing on his sensitive cock.

“No,” Harry interrupted, dark eyes glaring at him. “It’s too small to be a dick, so you shouldn’t treat it like one. Touch it like a clit.”

Louis whimpered, cheeks burning crimson as he spread his propped up legs wider. He used his middle and index fingers to trace them up and down over his tiny cock softly, thighs tensing up whenever it felt too sensitive. His hole was gaping just slightly, barely noticeable uncontrollable clenches of nothing because he was so stretched out. It was winking up at Harry in the best of ways. He could cum from anything at this point, the second time was always easier and the third was just a bit painful.

Harry let it go on for a while, only breaking eye contact to stare down at Louis’ twitching cock every once in a while. Louis couldn’t tear his eyes from Harry’s arms and pecs, always in awe of how much Harry’s grown. The large bulge in his shorts was a testament to that.

It wasn’t enough and Harry got the hint soon enough, taking his clothes off to join Louis on the bed. He stalked toward him like he was hunting prey, jaw set tightly and his eyebrows furrowed in that predatory gaze he always wore. He quickly pushed Louis’ knees to his chest, putting his hole on display and settled his laurel covered hips against Louis’ ass.

His cock rested right between his cheeks, covering Louis’ hole and touching his sac. He gave a few weak thrusts forward to glide over it teasingly and just when Louis was going to beg, he shoved himself inside.

“Oh,” Louis sighed, happy that his hole was filled again. He felt his body relax at the feeling but once Harry landed his movement right to the blunt of his special spot, he arched off the bed painfully. Harry leaned his weight forward, pressing his body down on Louis’ and the man was heavy enough that it was harder to breathe.

“Fuck! Ah, please please please please.”

He didn’t know what he was begging for—to be allowed to come, to get fucked harder, for Harry to let him breathe—but he didn’t know words anymore. Harry grunted as he kept shoving forward, teeth gritted tight and an animalistic snarl escaping his mouth whenever Louis tried to spasm away from the hold.

Harry intertwined their fingers, could never go without holding hands in any position on their bed. It was what made the sex feel so much better, so much stronger with intimacy. It solidified their connection, their devotion and love, whenever Harry’s big hands wrapped around his smaller ones. He squeezed their tangled fingers with as much strength as he could muster, Harry responding with his own squeeze.

“Fuck, baby, still feel so good even after you’ve gotten fucked with my dick and fingers at the same time. Love your tight cunt so much, darling, love it, love it. My fucking slut, mine. Gonna go out on stage and perform for all those people, but you’re mine,” Harry growled into his cheek, sliding his nose down to the hollow of Louis’ shoulder, where he sunk his teeth into the bruises already there.

“Gonna knock you up so everyone knows, go out there with my baby in you, pup,” Harry gasped, always shocking himself with all his dirty talk. He talks some shite sometimes, riles himself up with the most absurd phrases, but it never fails to make them both fuzzy with pleasure. “So pretty, darling. Fill you up and make sure you never close up, always ready for my dick.”

“H-Harry, ‘arry, I-I need to, can I? Can I please? Please daddy, please, please, please, sir,” Louis whined, clutching onto the thick muscle of Harry’s bicep, mouth wide open and tears starting to fall endlessly. He couldn’t breathe and gasped for air with every push of Harry’s hips, but he felt like he was on top of the world.

Harry stared at his open mouth with intent, checking on Louis’ blue ones before smirking a face that Louis knew meant he was up to something. His own mouth was hovering above his and his cherry red lips were parted as he aimed for Louis’. He felt the spit land in his mouth and he swallowed it down eagerly, Harry’s mouth vibrating with a groan as he pressed them together.

“Good job, pet,” Harry praised, spitting in his mouth again. It was messy, just like Louis liked to be, with saliva pooling in his mouth before falling down his throat. “Come on, I know you can come just like this, come just from my cock and my mouth filling you up good.”

Louis could feel his eyes get blurry with tears and with the spots of black that were the welcoming signs to his safe little space. He focused on Harry’s voice, on the bounce of their bodies, on the warmth of Harry from above him, on Harry’s mouth moving harshly against his lax one. He let the black dots grow bigger and bigger and let his body fall onto the bed as he felt his cock explode with the release of orgasm.

He could feel himself twitching and hear his tiny mewls and whimpers, still felt Harry’s cock hit him just right through his tummy, felt his cum leak onto a small pool on top of the bulge of Harry’s cock through his tummy. He sighed into the bed, floating and mindless, vibrating with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He felt sated and safe and warm and loved and at peace. He could feel Harry run soothing hands up and down his body, massaging his muscles that were already screaming in soreness, cooing at him. It seemed like time was stopped just for them, just for Harry and Louis and all that they could be, for all that they wanted to do.

He didn’t know how long he was under, how long he was floating in the blanket of black and heat and Harry. But he was surrounded by dreams of Harry and his smile and his laugh and his calming voice. It was safe, it was home.

“Baby,” Harry called from far away, echoing in the distance. “Boo-Bear, I miss you. Come back to me love, let me see your pretty blue eyes. I miss you, come back to me, I’m lonely. I love you, darling.”

Louis liked staying in the empty space where he didn’t have to think or do, but it scared Harry if he went under for too long. He could feel the worry starting to seep in Harry’s tone, the way his touches began to get firmer and with more intent.

“Did you come?” Louis slurred, fighting to open his eyes with the goop of his dry tears blocking his sight and spit. Harry probably spit on his face. He tried to move but he was weighed down by the boneless condition of his body.

Harry chuckled, coming from somewhere above Louis, and kissed his temple with an obnoxious movement that was too hard for Louis to handle. He groaned and Harry shushed him and he repeated his question.

“Not yet, baby—“

Louis frowned, trying to smack him but his arms were still quivering with pleasure.

“I wanted to know if I could still fuck your mouth. You don’t have to cum again, don’t want you to,” He brushed Louis’ sweaty fringe from his eyes when the boy began to protest. “You just went into subspace, babe. We’re not pushing you anymore today.”

“But I wanna, sir,” Louis pouted and his cock was protesting but he wanted to slip back into his tiny space.

Harry’s face was starting to come more in focus and the deep set lines on his face told Louis he was upset. “No, Louis. Don’t argue with me, either, or else I’ll just wack my dick off somewhere else and you won’t be able to do anything about it.”

Louis whined and eyed Harry’s mouth. It was so pretty and he puckered his lips, hoping Harry would get the message. And Harry did, of course he did, leaning down with an exasperated smile and an eye roll, and he could pretend all he wanted, but Louis knew that he loved him.

Their kiss was more of an open-mouthed, lazy grins and tongue touching than it was an actual sultry session, but it was sweet and loving and Louis bit at Harry’s lip to get a rise out of him and earned a pinch on his hip in return.

“Wait,” Louis interrupted, blinking awake again. Harry looked at him with a confused puppy face, puzzled and curious and Louis’. “Did you spit in me eyes?”

Harry had the decency to be sheepish, shrugging a shoulder and blushing. “Meant to get your mouth, but then you started thrashing about all crazy and I missed and I got so caught up in your orgasm that I sort of got your eyes? And your nose, the second time?”

The smaller boy rolled his eyes, huffing and swatting him and burying himself into the comforters. Harry pressed his body down, rolling it once, and shit, he was still hard. Harry was still fucking hard and Louis loved his cock. He had the best stamina, could keep it up for days and Louis’ been on the receiving end of it for so long now.

“Baby?” Harry asked, a lilt in his voice like he was scared to disturb Louis’ shut-eyed presence. He’d already had, pressing his big dick onto his hip and grinding on it, but Louis was too lazy to speak. He hummed at him. “Can I fuck your mouth still?”

It startled a giggle out of him and Louis nodded eagerly, opening his blues to see Harry scrambling up to hang over his head, cock swinging around funnily. He towers over him almost sinisterly, his greens still too dark to hold any color, and grabs a hold of his cock.

He slides his hand over it in slow strokes before slapping it against Louis’ cheekbone, smearing the mess of lube and precum anywhere he can move his dick. His balls are rested under Louis’ chin and he continues to glide his cock anywhere he pleases, alternating between soft rub and thick slaps of heavy weight. It’s relaxing almost, lulling Louis to flutter his eyes shut as he stares at Harry’s concentrated face.

“Eyes open, slut. If you fall asleep on me, I’ll have to punish you,” Harry scowled, hitting him roughly with the head of his dick, tapping it over and over on his cheekbone. Louis let out a soft squeak, opening his mouth in an attempt to get Harry to get on with it. “You want it?”

He asked with such a teasing tone, condescending and mocking all at once, still rubbing himself off just spaces from Louis’ parted lips. He rolled his head, showing off the thick column of his neck, and smirked down on him when Louis nodded his head rapidly. “You let me fuck all your holes, huh?” He ran long fingers through his short curls, still shiny from all the product the cosmetic team put on him from the movie.

“Yeah,” Louis whispered, rotating his head to chase after Harry’s member. He dipped in once, tipping the head just inside for a quick second before Louis could even get his tongue on him. He whined, watching as Harry lifted his cock and how red it was, how wet it has gotten with just a dip into Louis’ salivating mouth. “Please, daddy.”

Harry’s nostrils flared as he gripped Louis’ fringe and controlled the movement of his head, shoving himself fully inside Louis’ mouth. Louis choked at the sudden intrusion, trying his hardest to accommodate the stretch of Harry’s girthy length and relaxing as best he could. Harry didn’t let him adjust, just began thrusting in and in and in and groaning with every gag and gasp Louis let out.

“Fuck, fucking love your slutty mouth. Take it, know you can,” Harry grunted, forcing his way down to the back of Louis’ throat, gaze wavering from the tears streaming down Louis’ face to the working of his throat struggling to breathe. He glanced over his shoulder at Louis’ tiny cock when the boy let out a garbled moan, body fighting against the pressure of Harry’s knees on his shoulders. “You’re fucking hard, pet. Didn’t even say you can get off, told you not to, but you can’t help it, can you? Just get off on being my bitch, on pleasing me, my good baby.”

Louis cried, gagging again when Harry pulled out, strings of saliva connecting them as he inhaled all the air he was allowed in the short moment. Harry touched his nose and Louis nodded, sucking in air before taking Harry in again. Harry pinched his nose shut, Louis closing his eyes to focus on not dying, really, and he could hear, feel, how much Harry loved it. He was starting to feel lightheaded and his body was tensing up, his cock that he didn’t register was even hard was burning with pain and the need for release.

Harry let go, pulling out to let him breathe, and he greedily inhaled all he could. “Shit, baby,” Harry stuttered, voice cracking as he worked himself over, big hand moving rapidly up and down, up and down. He was jerking out in front of Louis, the head of his cock right on the tip of Louis’ tongue, the sound of their panting and harsh breaths echoing loudly.

Louis was slipping again, his orgasm an impending doom that was suddenly approaching like an oncoming train. It was coming far sooner than Louis expected it to, frozen by the strength of it with no stimulation other than his mouth being a toy for Harry to fuck into as he pleased. That was all it took, for Harry to slap him around a few times as he came into his mouth, spurting out white ribbons of cum messily down the back of his throat and onto his tongue, calling him every name in their book.

“Shit, fuck, fuck, baby, Lou. Fuck, baby,” Harry groaned, grabbing at his cheeks roughly with his free hand. He was shaking with his orgasm, watching in awe as Louis’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, unable to do anything but accept the load released onto his tongue. “Louis, love, shit. You’re fucking amazing.”

Louis couldn’t see past the blur of tears, could only hear the pride in Harry’s voice and used that as his sail back to life. He vaguely felt Harry spit into his mouth, making him even more full, and felt his lips close and his throat swallow everything gratefully. He sunk into the bed, whimpering weakly and trembling away from the touch of Harry on his overheated skin before clawing back for him.

“Love you, love you, love you,” Harry’s words vibrated onto his shaky skin, fighting fire with fire. He was pressed against the bite marks on Louis’ neck, trailing down to his sternum, back up to his temple, down his arms, onto his tummy. He took his time there, lapping at the pool of come lazily, and it tickled Louis back to reality. He giggled weakly, voice shot and raspy, and poked an eye open.

Harry met his gaze with a lopsided grin, dimple and bunny teeth and every bit of silly that Louis loved. He kicked at him weakly to get him off his stomach, but Harry’s happy face didn’t cease one bit, nor did he move. “Mornin’ darling,” he drawled out like he was a country boy. “Let me be, I want your belly.”

Louis rolled his eyes, clearing his dry throat. He must’ve screamed louder than he thought, gotten his throat roughed up harsher than he felt. Fucking hell, Harry. He tried to speak, but all that came was a croak.

Harry cooed at him, went to rub over the skin of his throat, but Louis’ voice was going to be gone for a couple hours and Helene would give them both an earful.

“That was good, wasn’t expecting a third from you,” Harry said gleefully, clambering up to lay beside him. He rested his cheek on a propped up arm, his other hand still hooked on Louis but raised it up. He was asking for a fist bump, closed fist casually in the air.

“Are you serious, H?”

Harry had the audacity to look offended, mouth dropped in shock. “I just gave you three orgasms! We had sex for, like, four hours. I think that’s pretty good, warrants another round really. C’mon, fist bump me, baby.” Harry crept into Louis’ cheek, nibbling at him to chip away the unimpressed expression he wore.

It didn’t work, but Louis fist bumped him anyway.

“You only three out of me ‘cos it’s been too long since you’ve dragged it out for hours.” Harry laughed like he could argue some more, but he brought Louis closer, snuggled up to him and let Louis tuck his always cold feet in between his calves. “Helene is going to be pissed.”

“‘S’your fault,” Harry murmured, sounding like he was winded, still catching his breath. “Mouth looked so pretty.”

Louis punched at his rib, letting his hand stay there to run featherlight, blunt nails over each trace of muscle. “You still stink, Harold.” He was buried right under his armpit again, in the crevice like an animal trying to hide away.

“You complain as if you’ve not thrown a pout when I wear antiperspirant at home,” Harry huffed. “Don’t fall asleep on me, I need to get up and get you water.”

Louis always got upset when Harry woke up and he’d surely wake him if he got up from the bed. It was the familiarity that they wore that was shining bright again.

“In a bit, just want to lay here, love.” His words were funny, slurred and lazy and raspy. He could hear Harry’s smile, feel it in the light touches on his back. “What are you bloody smiling at, twat?”

Harry cackled, shaking them with it, and Louis couldn’t stop the instinctual smile stretching his lips. “Missed your accent, is all. Nobody here talks like you do, Boo. Reminds me of home.”

Reminds him of home because Louis’ his home as much as Harry’s his, and they both knew this with all the certainty of the rolling ocean tides under the moon. It was the only thing they could fall back on, each other.

“Love you,” Louis whispered in the dark. He didn’t know what time it was or where the light had gone, he knew that he was in Harry’s arms, basking in the afterglow of all their love and he’d be a fool to not tell Harry that. As if Harry didn’t know.

“Love you,” was whispered back, as if Louis didn’t know. They confessed to each other as if it was their first time saying it, raw and painful, and listened to it the very same way, but they knew those words to be the only ones true.

With all the certainty of the tides, with all the light from the sun, with all the steady beats of their hearts, they were deftly in love, in secret and so loudly. They were brave and fearless and strong and hopelessly devoted in every sense of their breaths.

“We made it, baby,” Harry mumbled, bringing their lips into a final kiss, sweet and soft and the color of pink. They already knew that, didn’t fight tooth and nail and argued through every petty year and bleed their hearts into the words they sang and on their skin for them to have not made it home.

They were home.