Desire

Summary: When Louis finds some panties on stage, he gets curious…

Warnings: Feminisation, gay sex, fingering, cross-dressing, etc.

(I have to use wordpad without spell check, so sorry for any mistakes!)

-

The crowd are wild, Louis decides, just as his eyes follow a pair of white panties fly across the arena, landing neatly near the edge of the stage. He shakes his head, beacuse the audience in Newcastle have always been the craziest, the loudest, the best.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and as Liam and Niall entertain everybody with their own, improvised rap-off, Louis saunters over to the panties, bends over to pick them up. He encloses his small fist around the material, just so that no-oone can see. He’d rather be spared of the shame.

They feel soft in his hand, material silky and devine. He remembers then that a fan threw them on.; a fan tha may or may not have worn/been wearng them. So he quickly stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans, just to make the cleaners’ life a little easier.

And as he makes his way back across to the other boys, gives a few lines of rap, the panties are soon forgotten about.

-

Over the next few weeks, Louis somehow manages to collect a good few more pairs of lace undies.

His reasoning is pretty stupid. He tells himself that it’ll be easier for the cleaners, that they wouldn’t exactly want to pick up underwear, they have enough on their plates.

He also tells himself that he’ll take them to some clothes recycling bank or something, to, y’know, do his bit for the environment. But, with just a few more shows left of their UK leg, and a good eight to ten pairs of knickers and panties and thongs stored away at the bottom of his case, time seems to be running out.

Deep down, like way, way deep down, Louis knows he’s gonna keep them.

And he doesn’t like that fact, fucking hates it. Because it’s weird, and what boy has a collection of underwear that are meant for girls?

He feels almost ashamed. Almost. The panties are soft and silky and a couple of pairs have a cute little bow on the wasitband and the one thong he has is a devlish red, and he wonders how he’d look in them. Like sin, maybe? He’s not vain.

Liam’s voice is there then, snaking in through the creases of the dressing room door. “Lou, c’mon, gotta show to do.”

"Yeah, coming," Louis replies, and the fact that his voice has increased by a few octaves is embarrassing enough. He’s crouched down on trhe floor, case open as he fels over the thong. Liam gives his approval and Louis breathes a sigh of relief as he hears the sound of footsteps which soon disappear.

He buries the thong under a pile of jumpers, jeans and Van’s, where all the other ‘collectables’ are, hidden away from anyone else’s knowledge.

Straightening himself out, Louis prepares himself, tells hgimself that he needs to get over it all, that to get so worked up over something like this is ridiculous. He fixes his hair and makes sure he looks presentable before going off to join the boys for the penultimate show of their UK leg.

-

Amazingly, Louis forgets the items of clothing for about a couple of weeks or so. Their UK shows are all played out, and they’ve been spending a week doing press and interviews and writing, and it’s a relief when they’re home in London, a group of tired, exhausted boys stumbling into a five-bed apartment that’s barely ever used, but it’s their escape venue, a place for them.

They have about six days off until they’re going to New York, kicking off their North Americal leg. It’s not long, but it’s enough. Zayn will sleep, Niall will eat and lounge around in his boxers, Liam will moan at Niall, spend his time getting the place clean and stocked up for the six days, Harry will go and see his family, drag Louis out to see the latest blockbuster hit or go to the newest trendy club or something.

And Louis will go with him, because Harry’s his best friend and they’re good together. But he also wants to get to the bottom of this whole panties thing. It’s annoying and confusing and it’s probably weird to have underwear that belongs to other people in the back of your case. Scrap that. It is weird.

They’re half way through their time off. It’s a lazy Thursday norning, sun peering in through the open windows. Zayn’s fast asleep, and Louis wonders if he’s awoken at all these past few days. Liam’s out shopping, which is good, because they’re running out of milk and eggs and Liam’s the best at dealing with the paps and fans. He’s got security with him though, so he’ll be alright, Louis decides.

Niall’s mumbling to himself, tiredly cleaning up the crumbs of food from the sofa. (Liam had complianed at Niall for eating on the sofa, and now it’s lead to this).

He seems tired, and he had a busy day yesterday - shopping for clothes with Liam and Louis, so Louis thinks he’s safe from interuptions on Niall’s part.

Harry’s over in Cheshire, seeing his family. He’s begged Louis to go, but Harry doesn’t get back until the day before they go, and Louis really wants to sort his case out, wants to abolish the evidence that could prove he was ever into stupid girly underwear that’s silky and pretty and nice.

Stupid panties.

Having just took a long, hot shower, Louis’ stood at the foot of his bed, white, crisp towel wrapped securely around his dainty waist. His case is positioned on his bed, open. He was planning on packing for America, removing the clothes that were already in his case until he got to the back, just panties remaining.

It all hits him again, and he really has to sort this fucking problem out.

He decides then and there to get rid of them. To just throw them away and forget about the whole thing. But his brain has other ideas.

Louis holds a pair of the undies in his small hands, fingers curling and exploring the soft material of the white laced panties. They’ve got blue stitching along the waitband and there’s a tiny little bow of the same colour. They’re gorgeous, they’re actullly gorgeous.

Shit.

His towel decides to drop then, turning into a pool of white at his feet.

Louis sighs, thinks he’s dry enough and that he should get ready. But his hands are tight on the panties and he’s stark naked and one thing turns to another and then he’s slipping a leg into one of the holes, doing the same to his other leg.

The material is even softer as Louis tugs the undies up his thick legs. He feels insane, can’t belive what he’s doing. He has them on and secure in a few seconds, material stretchig around his arse and cock.

He doesn’t think much of it, really. Just thinks that they’re incredibly soft and very comfortable.

It’s not until he glances over the mirror, long and wide as it hangs on the wall, drapes down from the ceiling to the floor, that everything changes.

Louis really isn’t a vain person, but he looks beautiful. Fucking glorious.

His skin has lost a bit of its tan, and Louis makes a mental note to top it up when they’re in America.

He looks at himself in the mirror, stands face-to-face and looks his body up and down. He looks amazing, looks bloody spectacular. The curve of his lower back and the roundness of his arse and the stretch of the panties around his cock is all overwhelming.

Louis just stares, twists and turns his body for what feels like hours. He really isn’t vain, but he can’t find faults, can’t point out one single thing that is wrong with the panties.

But then there’s a knock on the door, and Louis freezes, heart pounding against his chest.

"Lou, m’bored, let’s go out, Josh said we can go play footie," Niall says, and he sounds like he’s got a mouthful of food in his mouth and Louis’ over the moon that A, he has a lock on his door, and B, he made sure to lock the bloody thing.

He clears his throat before replying with a shaky: “yeah, sure, just give us a minute.”

Niall wanders off then, scurries away and Louis lets out the biggest sigh of relief he’s ever released, heart eventually relaxing, settling down into a normal rythem of thuds.

He opts to discard the panties, tugs them off in favour for some simple, boring, orange boxers. His cheeks are a light red and his skin is slightly flushed. Louis pulls on some sweats and a jumper, sorts his shoes and socks and hair before he meets up with Niall.

-

Harry comes home later that day, earlier than what was originally planned. He drags a bag through the door and gives Liam a soft smile, watches as the boy sorts out the grocries. “You’re home early,” Liam says, returns Harry’s smile.

"There’s only so much home-made casserole my stomach can take," Harry jokes, slings the bag over his shoulder just as Zayn - all tired eyes and dark skin and dressed in nothing but some boxers and a t-shirt - pads his way into the living room, slumps down into the couch.

Harry and Liam shake their heads, share wide smiles. “Where’re the other two?” Harry asks softly, makes his way down to his bedroom. “Dunno, must’ve gone out.”

Liam ends up sat beside Zayn on the couch, playing a game of cards as some random T.V show plays in the ackground.

Harry’s got his bag unpacked and his things for America sorted. He finds one of Louis’ jumpers on the ground, picks it up and smooths it out. It smells like Louis, like rainbows and sweetness. It’s from the first night of their current time off, Harry and Louis cuddling on the former’s bed, watching Tangled for the nth time.

He twists the thick material in his hands, decides to go to its owner’s room and hang it up. Harry passes the two boys on the couch, scurries past until he reaches Louis’ room which is hidden down a corridor, Zayn’s room and a bathroom oppoiste.

Turning the handle, the door’s soon opened, and Harry takes a step inside, furrows his brows and looks around. There’s a case on the bed, open and revealing, and Harry’s height gives him the advantage of seeing the contents of said case.

He’s confused, stands with parted lips and narrow eyes.

His mind begins to race, and he hangs up the jumper as quickly as he can, makes to leave but is stopped, eyes landing on a pair of panties that lie on the floor.

It’s all confusing. Harry has no idea why Louis has a bunch of knickers in an otherwise case, and he really doesn’t know why he’s holding the pair of white panties in his large hands. He knows it’s wrong, knows he should leave and stop snooping around Louis’ private things. So he does, puts the panties back in the hope that Louis won’t realise someone was in his room.

He walks out and closes the door behind him, but can’t help the images that begin to flood his mind. Louis in the knickers, looking all pretty and girly. It makes Harry hard and he stumbles into the bathroom, gets himself off with a low, quiet grunt of Louis’ name. He feels dirty, really dirty, goes off to his own room without so much as a glance to the other two boys, forces himself to sleep and forget the whole thing.

-

America is hot. The first night is electric, the lights and noise of New York sending volts of adrenaline down everyone’s viens. The show goes execptionally well. The crowd are amazing, vocals great, and not one person goes hom unsatisfied. A job well done.

The boys are hot and sweaty after the show, lounging around the dressing room as Zayn gets Paul to see if they can go to a local club. His wish is granted, and Zayn, Niall and Liam change into causal clothing to accomadate the musky night air of New York. Louis makes an excuse of tiredness, telling them that he’s gonna catch an early night.

Harry watches him as he does so, makes the exact same excuse and listens as the other three groan and ramble on about how it’s not gonna be the same. They leave nonetheless, are guided out by Paul and security, grab Josh and the rest of the band to go with.

Harry hasn’t forgotten the whole panties thing. It’s been on his mind constantly, has re-grown all feelings for the small boy he thought he’d abolished.

It’s tense in the room now, Louis grabbing his stuff and telling Harry that he’ll see him in the morning. Harry nods and watches as Louis leaves, shakes his head and follows out shortly after. Their rooms are, conincedentally, next door to one another’s, and as Harry sits in his bed, nothing but sweats and a jumoer on, he can’t help but think over everything.

He decides to sort things out, decides that he misses his best friend and before, they’d joke over these kind of things. Harry slides out of bed, bare-footed and messy-haired as he grabs the spare key-card that he so skillfully took from Paul earlier that day. He goes to Louis’ door and feels guilty for not knocking. But he figures Louis’ asleep and proceeds to slowly swipe the card in, opens the door in one, swift motion.

There’s a yelp, which comes from Louis, and Harry freezes in the doorway, eyes landing on his small band-mate, all open skin and red, sinful panties perched around waist. It’s all Louis has on and he looks fucking graceful.

The room falls silent, the air grows thick.

Everything’s still.

Harry knows he should leave, knows he should go and apolagise to Louis later. But Louis’ facing him, looking at him with an expression that Harry can only read as please.

"Lou, I-" he goes to speak, but cannot find the words. He feels horrible, guilty, want to assure the terrified-looking boy acroos the room from him.

"Hazz, please don’t say-" ouis replies, Harry cutting his sentence with a: "you don’t have to say anything, I ive you my word."

Louis nods, lets out a sigh of relief as Harry kicks the door shut with the back of his foot. Louis goes to question Harry’s moves, but just stays still, watches as the tall boy saunters over to him, bright eyes and chocolate curls and pink lips.

Harry’s stood right in front of him then, husky scent and hot skin entering Louis’ system. And all feelings that they ever felkt for each other are now back, the same want and need and desperation that was there on The X Factor.

"You look, fuck, you look so perfect," Harry whispers, and Louis swallows, tenses up the slightest bit when Harry’s large hands go to his hips. "Hazz, I-."

"I’ll go. If you want me to, I’ll go, leave you alone, and I’ll never so much as breath a word about any of this ever again."

There’s a pause, and Louis shakes his head, reaches up to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck. “No, please, stay.”

Harry nods, drinks in everything about the gorgeous boy before him. “What do you want Lou?”

"I want you to make love to me, like we’ve always wanted. I don’t want any questions or anything, just you, please, we can talk after, just want you Harry."

There’s a moan that spills from Harry’s lips. His curls bounce as he nods, and everything’s so weird and confusing but Louis wants them to make love, and Harry will happily always, always give Louis what he wants.

He pulls Louis closer then, dips his head down to capture the boy’s lips in a soft, gentle kiss. Harry slides his tongue along Louis’ bottom lip, and is soon granted access, the kiss quickly becoming heated, tongue-filled and sloppy.

When Harry reluctantly pulls away to catch his breath, Louis fists at his shirt, stands up on his tip-toes to nose at Harry’s neck, takes in the manly, sweaty scent that has built up from the show. “Get this off.”

Harry nods, and his shirt is torn off from his body, tossed away and soon followed by his sweats. He’s stood in his boxers, Louis in his pretty red panties as their hips roll together, cocks rubbing and moans being pulled from throats.

Louis moves then, falls back onto the bed and tugs Harry down with him, captures his lips in another heated kiss.

It’s paced and sweet and perfect and Harry flips Louis over so that he’s on his stomach, head nesstling into the pillows. Harry kneels between Louis’ legs once he’s spread them, lans forward to kiss along Louis; shoulders. “You sure you want this?”

Louis nods, reaches over to fumble in his bedside drawer, hands Harry some lube and a condom. “Please Hazz, want you badly.”

Harry moans at that, kisses his way all down Louis’ body until he’s at the black stitching of the wasitband of the panties.

They look so good on Louis, and his arse looks better than it has ever looked. There’s a hole in them, one that Harry’s only just noticed and it makes his dick even harder, fat and straining against the compressing material of his boxers.

He’s going to fuck Louis whilst he wears the panties. Louis’ going to make a mess in them and Harry needs to be inside him as soon as fucking possible.

But he wants this to last, too, so keeps kissng all over Louis’ body, slicks three fingers up with the lube.

He slides his middle finger into the hole of the panties, pushes it further in until it’s nudging against Louis’ hole. Harry traces the tight ring of muscles before pushing it past the rim, moaning at how they clench and work around the digit.

Louis lets out a strangled noise then, one that’s muffled by the pillow. Harry knows that Louis’ touched himself before, and uses that as an excuse to push n a second finger. He brings them in and out, scoping around Louis’ insides, exploring the boy’s tight heat.

It’s not long before Harry has three fingers - long and thick and twisting - inside Louis’ walls, curling into the boy’s prostate.

Louis cries out, bites down into the pillow and reaches his hands into the sheets, twists and curls his nimble fingers into the soft material.

"Please," he breathes, and Harry nods, presses a kiss to the back of Louis’ neck before pulling his fingers free, emitting a whimper from Louis due to the loss, hole clenching around thin air.

Harry holds the boy and flips him over, slides his own boxers off before kneeling back between Louis’ spread, lifted legs. He slicks himself up with a genourous amount of lube and leans down to kiss Louis - wet and hot and amazing.

He lines his tip up with Louis’ hole and nudges in, watches as the small boy’s face contourts with the pressure of Harry’s dick against his hole. Louis’ own cock is hard and straining against his panties, skin red, flustered and hot. Harry leans down again to kis Louis once more, pushes in bit by bit until their hips are pressed.

The feeling of the panties against his hips is nice and Harry can’t take how beautiful Louis looks, drowns in the prettiness of his band-mate.

He fucks him tenderly then and there, holding Louis’ legs and thrusting his hips in a steady but deep rhythm. It’s amamzing and perfect and everything gains speed as the boys chase their orgasms. Louis’ ankles cross around the back of Harry’s neck and his body is folded as Harry’s fucking becomes quick, cock delving into Louis’ walls, stretching him and hitting his prostate with each thrust.

"Cum for me darling, make a mess in your pretty panties," Harry grunts, his lips trailing along Louis’ jaw, down his neck.

Louis nods, blunt nails scratching down Harry’s back as he releases with a high, drawn out cry of Harry’s name, thighs shaking and body tembling. His panties become messy, stained with evidence of Louis’ orgasm.

It’s overwhelming, and the pressure of Louis’ walls clamping around his dick is enough to send Harry over the edge. He spills into the condom and pants into the crook of Louis’ neck, bites down in an unsuccessful attempt to keep his deep grunts quiet.

Harry slows his thrusts, kisses Louis to distract him as he pulls out gently, the small boy whimpering into Harry’s mouth. They pant and breath quickly and reain their breaths. Harry collapses dow beside Louis, leans over to kiss him.

No words are said until Harry’s ran them a bath. It feels too awkard to speak, but they kiss and touch and Harry helps Louis out of the messy underwear, tosses them into the bin because they’re rich and Louis has other pairs.

Louis sits between Harry’s legs in the tub, his back pressed flush to the taller one’s chest. Harry’s arms are around him and it feels perfect, feels right.

"I’ve always loved you, ever since X Factor," Harry whispers, littering Louis’ shoulders and neck and back and body with kisses and touches.

Louis giggles, laces his fingers into Harry’s hands that are on his thighs. “Me too, promise me we can make this work, this time?”

There’s a pause, and the kisses have stopped. Louis wants to take back his words until:

"I promise."

Spin For A Win

Summary: The boys decide to play a game of spin the bottle…

Warnings: Blowjobs, rimming, handjobs, gay sex, etc.

-

Okay Z, it’s your turn,” Louis says, brings his bottle of beer to his lips. The cool liqiud glides down his throat and once he’s took a few sips, he let’s out a content sigh.

The apartment is hot, and the boys are all in nothing more than their boxers. Louis had gave them an option of playing a game of ‘spin the bottle’ to pass the time on their day off, to which they all happily accepted. They’re all sat around the living room, slumped on the ground and using the couches as back support, positioned in their best attempt at a circle.

They’re using the pack of sex cards that Louis brought some time ago, and finally, they’re being put to good use.

Zayn reaches out and takes a spin of the bottle that’s situated in the middle, and it lands on Louis. He grabs a card and settles himself back into his original spot. The card reads ‘ride’, and it’s a relief.

So far it’s been ‘kiss’ or ‘suck’ or ‘bite’, gentle instructions that don’t really do much, aren’t enough for any of them to get off to. But finally, it’s becoming good.

A smirk curls onto the corners of Zayn’s lip, and in seconds, he’s tugging his boxers off, flinging them across the room as his semi-hard dick nesstles against his thigh, already leaking some precum as it begins to fatten up.

Louis licks his lips, soon has his own undwerwear discarded and thrown away. He crawls over to Zayn and gets comfortable in the boy’s lap. “Need prep?” Zayn asks, spits on his palm to lather himself up, getting his dick slick.

With a nod, Louis brings Zayn’s other hand up to take three fingers into his mouth. It shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. The other three are watching with wide, intriging eyes. Zayn slides his fingers in and out of Louis’ mouth, strokes himself lazily as he tickles the back of the smaller boy’s throat. They’re both naked and hard and sweating from the heat and they’re all so happy that Louis came up with this game.

Zayn fucks Louis’ mouth with his fingers for a good few minutes. He pulls them out and trails them down to behind Louis, sliding them between his arse cheeks to trace the index finger around Louis’ rim.

He slides it in with unsurprising ease, pushes it deep until it’s down to the knuckle. Louis places his hands on Zayn’s shoulders to brace himself, legs almost hurting as he tries to hold himself in place, tries to stay still for Zayn.

"So tight Lou, fuck," Zayn mutters, pushes in a second finger and scissors them vigourously, wants to be inside the boy’s tight heat desperately. The other three are still watching, and Harry really hates the whole ‘no touching yourself unless it’s your turn’ rule.

The place is still very hot, sun pouring in through the windows. But everyone’s so focused on everything between Zayn and Louis that the sun gets no more recognition, gets shunned in favour for the sexual tension that’s lingering in the hot air.

It doesn’t take Zayn long to have three fingers working inside Louis’ hole, stretching him open. The small boy lets out a string of whimpers: high and building up in volume as Zayn teases him, brushes his fingers against his spot every now and again.

When the dark-skinned boy pulls his fingers free - satisfied with how open Louis is - the smaller lad whines, hole clenching around thin air.

In seconds, Zayn’s got himself lined up with Louis’ entrance, his tip pushing up in an attempt to enclose itself around Louis’ clenching muscles.

Louis keeps his hands clamped onto Zayn’s broad shoulders, blunt nails clinging to the skin as he slowly sinks himself down onto his friend’s dick. They’ve done this before, quite a lot actually, but for Louis, Zayn’s always been a stuggle to take. He carries thickness. Liam’s long, but Zayn’s thich. His dick stretches his hole more than the others’, and right now, it’s a little overwhelming.

It’s painful, especially when he takes Zayn in, inch by inch, but it’s the pain he likes, the one that he’s able to push through. So he does, sinks himself down and down and down until their hips meet, Zayn ‘s balls mushed against Louis’ bum.

"Shit, so big Z, fuck," Louis breathes, leans his head down to rest in the crook of Zayn’s neck. It’s sweaty and hot and smells like Zayn.

Zayn grunts - deep and low and rasped as he jolts his hips up as a gesture for Louis to move. “C’mon mate, you can do it.”

Louis nods, clasps Zayn’s shoulders even tighter and slowly lifts his hips up, just until the tip remains inside. He sinks back down in one, swift motion, whines highly when his prostate is nudged. His cock is hard against his belly, red and leaking and tight. He picks up enough strength to ride Zayn propely, hips rising and sinking constantly as he tries desperatley to give his spot some action.

Reaching his hands out to plant them on Louis’ hips, Zayn groans deeply, starts bucking up quickly to meet Louis’ hips whenever they sink down.

And that’s how it goes for some time, the two boys working in unison as the other three watch on, hard and deserate for a release.

"Shit, Lou, gonna cum," Zayn grunts after some time, their pace having increased significantly. Louis nods and whines when Zayn slips out, almost stumbles back. But Zayn’s got an arm around his waist, keeps him in place.

Louis kneels down between his bandmate’s legs, reaches down to stroke Zayn quickly, wanks him through his orgasm as the dark-skinned one paints his chest and abs in hot, white spurts of cum, shot, quick breaths falling from his lips as he tilts his head back, digs his nail into Louis’ thighs. “Fuck!”

It’s a hot sight. Louis’ dick twitches as he watches Zayn fall apart, strokes his softening dick a little more, sqeezes a few more drops of cum out of his tip before he releases Zayn’s cock from his hand.

He sits back on his knees with parted lips, takes in the glorious sight of an orgasm-stricken Zayn - all breathless and hot and shaking and delicious.

Zayn opens his eyes to look up at Louis, smiles lazily and reaches up to stroke the boy’s cheek. “Cheers mate, fuck, that was perfect.” His voice is deep and gritty and Louis’ dick twitches. He’s pulled down by Zayn, who catches Louis’ lips in a gentle kiss. It’s lazy and languistic and slow, just the slipping of tongues working into one another’s mouths, exploring.

Louis soon pulls away, breathless as he reaches over to the coffee tbale that’s been moved to make room for the game. He hands Zayn a box of tissues and rolls off of his lap, slumps against the sofa. “you can clean yourself up… Who’s turn is it?”

Zayn grumbles at that, as if he were expecting Louis to lick it up or something. He has himself cleaned up quickly, used, wet tissues tossed into the bin.

The other three are sat opposite in an effort of a semi-circle, faces red and cocks tenting through their boxers.

It should be awkward, but it’s not, and they’re all thankful for that.

Niall clears his throat and threads a hand through his messy blonde hair. “S’my tun, ” he says, reaches out to roll

He reaches out to spin the bottle, and they all watch as it rotates, eventually landing on Liam. Their eyes meet and they both smile. Niall grabs a card that reads ‘facial’, and grins, wide and mischevious.

Liam blushes, sips his beer as a distraction. He’s always been shy about this sort of stuff.

"You wanna cum on my face, or the other way ‘round?" Niall asks, and four pairs of bright, interested eyes land on the tallest boy, who’s blush grows even deeper.

"I uh, can I, your face," he mumbles, ttakes a large swig of his cold drink. "Please?"

Niall nods and bites his lip, watches as Liam peels off his boxers and places them beside himself. Niall crawls over and kneels between Liam’s long, muscluar legs. He presses a kiss to the boy’s inner thigh and they all watch as Liam slicks himself up with his own spit.

Liam sits, legs spread open and a fit blonde boy nestled between them. The thought of releasing all over Niall’s face is all he needs. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, lips pated as he moans coninuously. Niall places his hands onto Liam’s inner thighs to keep his body steady. He dips his head to take Liam’s balls into his mouth, earning the deepest moan he’s ever heard fall from the bigger one’s lips.

As he works a large, firm hand along his long dick, Liam’s fist bumps Niall’s face with every stroke. They’re all on edge, waiting in anticipation. Out of them all, Liam has the biggest loads. (Then again, he has the biggest everything: muscles, legs, arms, dick, balls, and so on). He’s a blessed man.

Liam’s balls draw up tight inside Niall’s mouth. The blonde pulls off with a slick pop and Liam tangles his free hand into the strands of Niall’s hair. He twists his fingers and messies his hair even more, clearly on the edge.

Holding Niall in place, Liam cums with a deep shout, releases hard, heavy and quick all over Niall’s pretty face, gets him absolutely covered in his orgasm.

It’s hot and amazing and beautiful; spurt after spurt of white liquid landing on Niall’s closed eyes, forehead, some going ionto his nose, dripping down his cheek and chin, a few spurts even landing in his hair.

Niall sticks his togue out to lick around his lips, takes in some of the cum to taste the swet, muskiness that’s Liam.

He reaches forward and takes Liam’s tip into his mouth, swirls his tongue and sucks Liam dry before pulling off.

Liam opens his eyes then, groans when he sees the state he’s put Niall in. He releases his hand from both the blonde’s hair and his limp dick, kisses Niall lips quickly and gets a decent taste of himself. “Want tissues?”

"Feed it to me," Niall replies, feels Liam’s figers scoop the cum up and feed it to Niall’s open mouth. It doesn’t take long, and once Liam’s cleaned Niall’s hair with a tissue, they kiss, messy and sloppy and passionate, swapping Liam’s cum between their mouths. It’s slick and dirty and should be gross but perfect and amazing.

Niall crawls away from Liam then, lets the boy regain his senses as he goes back to sit beside Harry, who’s turn is next.

He spins the bottle and lands Louis, picks the card that reads ‘rimjob’. Harry grins at that, all goofey and dimple-filled. If there’s one thing Louis’ good at - beside singing and football, obviously - then it’s eating someone out.

Louis grins back and moves the bottle and cards away from the middle, re-positions everyone so that Niall, Zayn and a-still-blissed-out Liam are sat together, nuzzled into one another’s sides. Louis gets Harry naked and has him on his hands and knees, facing the three boys. He kneels behind the curly-haired one, kneads his firm arse cheeks before spreading them apart, followed by Harry’s legs.

Louis licks over his dry lips, drinks in the beautiful sight of Harry’s pink, fluttering hole. He gets comfortable, leans down and keeps Harry’s cheeks apart, presses his tongue flat against the boy’s hole.

Harry moans at that, quiet but sure, lowers his head as Louis licks along his hole, again and again and again, purposley not letting his tongue slide past Harry’s rim, just to be a tease.

Louis does that for some time, his handprint slowly forming on Harry’s arse cheeks from the firm grip he has on them. He nibbles on the skin just below his arse, goes down until he reaches Harry’s balls.

It’s amazing, how quickly Harry falls apart. And now, as he slowly begins to pant, cock hard and straining as it remains ignored, flushed against his defined abdomen, he feels desperate, pushes back against Louis to get more.

And Louis gives him exactly that, plunges his tongue past Harry’s rim, dives it into his hole as far as it will go.

Harry cries out, a moan that’s cut off and goes up a few octaves. He has three sets of eyes on him, and that alone makes his cock twitch. Louis’ going to town, sucking and swirling and nibling and tearing Harry apart, turning him into a whimpering mess.

When he looks up, cheeks tainted a rosy pink, his body flushed and slick with a thin layer of sweat, his eyes capture those of Liam, Zayn and Niall. His fringe flops down over his eyes, chocolate curls cutting off a percentage of his vision. It’s slightly degrading, to have three of your bandmates watch you as you get eaten out by another, yet for Harry, it’s one of the hottest things in the world.

It’s not long before he’s cumming, shooting hot, white spurts onto the carpet with a string of deep cries. Louis licks him through it, tongue dancing across Harry’s prostate. He tatses musky and manly and it’s bloddy beautiful, amazing.

Harry’s panting now, lips parted as he comes down from his great high. Louis snakes an arm around his waist and pulls him up so that Harry’s back is against his smaller front. Louis reaches his spare hand to tangle into Harry’s hair, twists his head so that they can share a deep, sloppy, tongue-filled kiss.

Louis lets Harry go then, watches as he slowly makes his way to sit between Liam and Zayn, an utter blissed-out expression painted on his face. Louis cleans up the pool of cum that’s stained the carpet. He puts the bottle back and spins, lands Niall. “Blowjob,” he grins, reading over the card. “Boxers off, Ni.”

Niall’s scarily quick to remove his green undies, tosses them away and sits comfortable, chunky, muscled, pale legs spread open, cock red and haird and straining.

Louis shuffles over, naked body glowing as he nesstles between Niall’s spread legs. He looks up and gets an excited nod from the blond, bows his head until his lips take Niall’s tip into his mouth. Niall moans, instantly reaches his hands out to tangle his fingers into Louis’ soft hair.

Working his lips and tongue around the blonde’s head, Louis looks up, locks eyes with Niall before he sinks his mouth down, takes Niall in bit by bit until his mouth is stuffed with Irish cock. He hums, moand and whines round the thick length, earning strings of muffled grunts and groans from his friend.

Niall’s the shortest of the group, but probably the second thickest. It’s easy for Louis to take of all him into his mouth, but there’s an ache in his jaw from the stretch of his mouth, an ache that turns Louis on, makes him bob his head along the blonde boy’s dick.

Niall twists his guitar-coullaused fingers in Louis’ hair, bucking his hips up to begin fucking Louis’ mouth. Louis hollows his cheeks, breathes through his nose and keeps his teeth out of the way. His mind’s going slightly dizzy and he’s trying to focus on the ask at hand.

Clearly on the edge, it takes Niall mere minutes to release. He cums down Louis throat, shoots spurt after spurt to the back of his mouth. Louis chokes, swallows as much as he can and saviours the taste of Niall’s sweet release.

Once Niall is sucked dry, Louis pulls off with a wet pop, sits back on his knees and wipes his mouth.

Niall’s usual pale skin is flushed red, the colour darkening as it creeps up his neck. He’s breathless and his hair is slick with sweat.

Louis leans forward to give his neck a sloppy, wet kiss. He licks up the beads of sweat that have formed there, and proceeds to kiss upwards, nibbling along Niall’s jaw before their lips collide in a slow, soft kiss.

"Li your turn," Harry says then, lips parted. "You haven’t came yet."

Louis nods, setles back and gestures for Liam to take his turn. Liam reaches out and spins the bottle, lands it on Louis with the card that reads ‘finger’. Liam soon has Louis in the middle of the floor, on his back. He kneels between Louis’ legs and positions them both so that the other boys can see. Niall shuffles lazily, nuzzles himself into Zayn’s free side, an arm being slung across his shoulders.

Liam leans down to capture Louis’ lips in a heated kiss, tongues working and sliding and tasting and exploring.

As he pulls away, Liam slides three fingers into the small boy’s mouth, watches as Louis takes them in and suckles on them. It’s hotter than what it was like with Zayn, Louis seemingly desperate to cum now, himself being the only one to yet do so.

He has the digits slick with spit in no time, and Louis lifts his legs, wraps them around Liam’s neck, his body folding. Liam licks over his lips, trails his fingers down to trace the smaller kid’s hole. It’s still wet slightly from Zayn’s finger and cock, and Liam has all three nesstled deep into Louis within seconds.

It’s a godsend for the boy. Liam’s fingers are the thickest and longest with no argument, and Liam just knows how to use them, knows exactly the places to touch and siccor and twist and curl.

Louis’ breathing has increased, coming out in short, frequent, high bursts of breath. His eyes are glazed and his fringe is beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat. “Please Li, fuck me,” he breathes, looks up at the larger boy with a begging gaze.

Liam nods, his dick semi-hard already from just the sight of Louis. He looks at the other boys; Harry’s hard, stroking himself lazily, and Zayn and Niall are alternating between kissing and watching the scene between Liam and Louis.

With one last curl of his fingers, which brush right up against Louis’ prostate, Liam pulls his fingers free, pulling a whine stright from the back of Louis’ throat.

He reaches down to man-handle Louis, flips him over to put him on his hands and knees, in positon so that he faces the other three boys. Liam soon has himself slicked up with his own saliva, kneels at Louis’ entrance and slides in with one, swift move.

It’s overwhelming, senses on overload as Liam’s long length fills Louis’ walls to the brim. He cries out highly, head collapsing to rest on a forearm. And the new angle is amazing, the cuve of Louis’ arse glistening with sweat. He looks beautiful, naked and tanned and all spread out for Liam, for them.

Zayn reaches over to bat Harry’s hand away, takes the curly-haired boy’s dick into his own and strokes him slowly. Harry does the same, manouvers a large hand over to wank Zayn as their lips crash into a kiss.

After a signal from Liam, who’s already began fucking Louis at a steady, slow pace, Niall kneels up and settles himself at Louis’ head, lifts the boy’s chin up.

Louis’ met with the sight of Niall’s semi-hard dick. He licks his lips and takes the length into his mouth almost instantly.

It’s perfect. Harry and Zayn watch on, work their hands over one another’s cocks skillfully, sharing messy kisses here and there. Liam gradually picks up his pace until he’s fucking Louis hard, each thrust balls-deep.The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, as well as moans, grunts and whines from all five boys.

Louis tries to focus his mind on keeping his teeth away from Niall’s cock. But he wants to cum, is so close, and Liam fucking into his spot is only making things worse. He takes Niall in deeper every time Liam slams into his hole, chokes a little as the tip hits the back of his throat.

Everything’s quick and messy now. Niall’s got his hands in Louis’ hair, and Liam’s got his on the boy’s hips. Louis’ legs and arms are aching, and he’s got a fist working his own cock, fingers sliding over the tip.

He cums shortly after, spots of white shining before him as he releases messily onto the floor. Harry then follows, closes his eyes and throws his head back as he coats Zayn’s hand in a white, hot mess. Zayn himself soon follows, cums for the second time that day.

Louis’ moaning and whining around Niall, and clenching and fluttering around Liam. Everything’s overwhelming and then Niall’s releasing down his throat for another time, fucks Louis’ mouth until his dick is dry.

Liam’s the last to release. His moans are low and deep and the other three watch on in amazement as he pulls out, coats Louis’ cheeks and the dip of his back with his orgasm.

The room stays silent then, just the sounds of pants and heavy breathing fill the air. Liam wraps his hands around Louis and pulls him up, tugs Niall over so they can kiss altogether. Harry and Zayn hand out tissues so that everyone can clean themselves.

Once done, they collapse in a heap of limbs on the floor, Niall at one end, Harry at the other, Louis in the middle, nestled between Liam and Zayn. Harry retreives a large blanket and covers them all in it.

The boys all share tender kisses and praisies. It’s lazy and perfect and none of them would have wanted to spend their day off any other way.

"I’m ready for round two," Harry says, all goofy-grinned and dimples. He gets a whack on the head from Zayn, only for Louis to giggle and add: "give us half an hour."

Um…

Um…

Hey lovlies! Send me prompts please! I have writer’s block and I need ideas! Xxxxx :D

WHY THE FUCK NOT

thefrontbuttons:

thefrontbuttons:

If you reblog this before July 1 2014, I will write your url down and stick it in a jar or whatever. Over the summer I will take the jar of urls and I will scatter them around. They may get taped to public loos, they may be thrown into crowds at festivals, or they may get put under napkins at restaurants.
Some one may find your url, and who knows, they could message you telling you where they found it.
You have until July 1 to reblog.

about a week left!!

Turn The Lights Out

Summary: Louis didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s just, Harry’s older and experienced and if there’s anyone that Louis would want to lose his virginity to, then it’s Harry… Or the one where Louis gets fucked by his best friend’s older brother.

Warnings: Gay sex, fingering, dirty-talk, swearing, underage!Louis, bottom!Louis, top!Harry, age-gap, loss of virginity, etc. 

-

When the door opens, Louis doesn’t expect the sight that he’s met with.

He thought it would be Josh, or Anne, but it’s Harry.

Topless Harry with a defined, gorgeous body and so many tattoos that Louis’ eyes can’t take them all in. 

Harry’s got some sweats on and he’s drying his hair with a small towel, and Louis can smell him, the scent of huskiness, deodorant, man

"Lou? You okay?" Harry asks, and his voice is just as deep and sexy as always. 

Louis nods and blushes deeply, covering his groin to try and hide the tenting of his jeans. 

"I-I was calling ‘round for, uh, Josh, actually," he stammers out, cursing himself under his breath for being such an idiot. 

Harry’s lips curl into a warm smile and he slings the towel over his shoulder, leans against the door frame. 

"He’s actually out for the day, with our aunt, didn’t he tell you?"

Louis shakes his head and blushes even more, turns on his heels and goes to make his way down the path. “Sorry, I’ll go then.”

A strong, large hand snakes around one of Louis’ wrist, and he freezes. 

"Why don’t you stay? You live a while away and it’s unfair for you to have came all the way down here, just to be sent straight home again."

Louis shrugs and turns to face Harry - who’s suddenly pretty close, all tall and broad and hot and that scent, so strong

"Y-you wouldn’t want me here, I’m sure you’ve g-got better things to do."

Harry shakes his head and smiles softly, dimples and everything. It makes Louis smile back. 

"I’ve got the day off work, and I’ve got nothing planned, it would be good to have some company, what d’ya say?" Harry asks, reaching a hand over to ruffle Louis’ hair. 

The small boy giggles and nods, fixing his hair. 

Harry grins and tugs Louis inside, kicking the door shut. 

-

Louis likes Harry, always has done. 

He comes over a lot to visit Josh, and they always talk and stuff.

It’s nice, because Louis doesn’t have that older sibling, and Harry plays that role in his life sometimes.

The two are perched in the living room, sat at opposite ends of the couch, legs entwined. 

Louis traces the rim of his beer can, and thinks about how Harry makes him feel grown up. Jay never let’s him drink.

"How old are you again?" Harry asks once they’re comfortable. "M’fourteen," Louis replies with a smile, sips the beer shyly. 

Harry nods and smiles back. “Same age as Josh then.”

Louis bites his lip and nods. “You?”

"I’m 19," Harry shrugs, watches Louis with a glint in his eyes.

"So, you got a girlfriend?" Harry asks, and Louis chokes on his own breath slightly, shakes his head.

"No, uh, no, I’m like, not into that," he splutters, looks down at his can and blushes as deeply as possible. 

Harry lets out a gentle laugh, rubs his foot along Louis’ leg.

"It’s fine mate. You got a boyfriend then?"

Louis shakes his head and relaxes slightly, sips his beer and looks up at Harry.

"You don’t find it weird? You’re not creeped out?"

Harry smiles and Louis watches him carefully. “Why would I be, if I am too?”

Louis’ eyes widen and his mouth falls open a tad. “You’re, you’re into guys? You’re gay?”

"Yup," Harry says with a chuckle, downs the rest of his beer as he watches Louis with a fond smile. 

"Sorry, just wouldn’t put you into that group," Louis says softly, does the same as Harry and is soon handed a fresh can.

And that’s how things go for a while. 

They sit and drink their way through a good few cans of beer and talk and flirt and laugh, enjoying one another’s company. 

"Y’know, you’re the only person I’ve met who drinks at this time of day," Louis giggles after some time, his free hand playing with the material of Harry’s sweats. 

"Says you," Harry grins lazily, gestures towards to Louis’ own can. "And besides, I’ve never met anyone who’s as small as you."

Louis blushes again, his tanned skin going red as he looks down.

"You’re just so tiny," Harry smiles, hand placed on Louis’ leg. "You have such a good body mate, the best I’ve ever seen."

Louis’ blush grows impossibly deeply, eyes flickering over to Harry, who’s still topless. 

"Whatever," he says, giggling to himself.

And then more cans are handed out.

-

Louis doesn’t know how he’s ended up in Harry’s lap, but here he is, perched neatly, the elder boy’s strong arms around his dainty waist. 

"You know, everyone’s out for the day," Harry murmurs into Louis’ ear, nibbling along the shell.

Louis nods and traces his nimble fingers around Harry’s tattoos. 

"Yeah? So?" He grins, looks up into Harry’s bright, hazy eyes.

They’re both pretty drunk, empty cans of beer littered across the carpet flooring. 

"So, we go upstairs and fuck," Harry says blatantly, a wide, smug grin on his lips. 

Louis tensed up at that, hands planted across Harry’s broad, wide chest. He swallowed, eyes flickering around the room in a mission to avoid Harry’s gaze.

"Lou? Shit, was that too much? I’m sorry," Harry breathes, hands rubbing over Louis’ hips softly. 

Louis shakes his head, smiles slightly at Harry.

"It’s just, I’ve never, uh, I’m like, a virgin."

Harry nods and smiles, watches as Louis blushes deeply (again) and lowers his head.

"Hey, hey, that’s fine baby, I was only joking," Harry says softly, tilting Louis’ head back up by his chin. 

Louis nods and smiles again at Harry. “B-but I-.”

Harry furrows his brows and smiles reassuringly at Louis, pecking his lips. “Did you want that to happen?”

There’s a pause before Louis nods, looks down and plays with his fingers. “Y-yeah, but it’s wrong.”

Harry shrugs and caresses Louis’ face, gives him a bright smile. “So? I’ve liked you for a while Lou, age doesn’t matter, yeah?”

Louis nods and giggles slightly. “Y-yeah, okay, let’s do it.”

-

"I’ll be gentle, if you’re ever in pain, you tell me, okay?" Harry smiles once Louis’ laid on his bed.

Louis nods and tugs Harry down, the elder boy hovering over the small, frail body of Louis. 

Harry braces a hand on either side of Louis’ head, leans down to press their lips together gently.

And it’s amazing. 

Harry knows what he’s doing and he works his tongue into Louis’ mouth, explores the warm, moist area.

The kiss is perfect, although Louis’ had no past experience, so he hasn’t exactly got much to compare it with. 

But it’s amazing nonetheless.

Starting off slow, Harry guides Louis along to make the kiss eccentric, sparks flying as their lips dance. 

They keep the kiss going whilst clothes are shred, tossed in every which way as they filter to the ground. 

And then they’re both naked.

It causes the kiss to break. Harry moves to sit back on his knees between Louis’ legs, hands instinctively trailing all over the boy’s smaller frame, caressing his skin. 

"Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful."

Louis pants slightly, eyes widening as they roam around Harry’s naked body - all strong and defined and fucking glorious

His gaze lands on Harry’s dick, an it’s huge. Heavy and fat and it’s only semi-hard and it’s much bigger than Louis’, which is leaning full and hard against his slender stomach.

"You sure about this baby? I don’t think you’re gonna be able to take me," Harry whispers, leans back down to kiss Louis lovingly. 

Louis nods and curls his tiny hands around Harry’s biceps which seem bloody massive at this point. “I’m sure, just go slow, yeah?”

With a smile, Harry nods, nudges Louis legs up to his chest, spreads them so his hole is on display. 

Louis holds his legs by the back of his thighs, watches as Harry grabs some lube and a condom.

"You need to relax baby, okay?"

Louis nods and lets out a shaky breath, his body slowly relaxing whilst Harry skillfully slicks up a few of his fingers.

Harry traces his rim with the tip of a digit, keeps his eyes fixed on Louis for any sign of either pleasure or pain.

"I-I’ve done this before, f-fingering, you d-don’t have to be so s-slow," Louis whispers with a blush, and Harry groans at that, nods and pushes the tip past Louis’ ring. 

Their eyes lock and Harry gives Louis a reassuring smile, the finger soon being knuckle deep. 

Everything’s slow and gentle and nice. Harry leans forward when he pushes in a second finger, kissing Louis lovingly to take his mind away from any pain he may be experiencing. 

And it works. Louis focuses himself on the kiss, grasps his hands onto Harry’s broad shoulders.

The kiss goes dirty in a matter of seconds, tongues passing and exploring and tasting. 

Harry works another finger into Louis, and it’s sensational. Louis’ used to his own tiny, calloused fingers, but Harry’s are long. They’re thick and skilled and brushing against his prostate and-

"Fuck, Hazz!"

Harry smirks to himself and starts to fuck Louis with his fingers, pulls away from the kiss ever so slightly to watch him, lips brushing. 

The sounds that Louis makes are a delight to Harry’s ears.

They’re beautiful and sexy and he can’t wait to be inside the boy, he’s so tight just around his fingers.

Louis’ body is glorious, red and tanned and back arching a little. His legs, delicious and chunky, spread wide apart, for Harry.

"Hazz! Please!" Louis cries out, the three fingers being stretched; curled and twisted and fucked inside him, Harry so purposely avoiding Louis’ prostate. 

It’s good. It’s fucking amazing. Harry clearly knows what he’s doing and Louis feels safe with him, protected. 

They kiss again - sloppy and wet - as Harry continues to work his fingers inside Louis, hits his spot here and there, just to tease him. 

But then they’re soon gone, and Louis fucking whimpers.

Harry sits back on his knees, watches as Louis’ hole clenches around thin air. He smirks.

"This my hurt now baby, okay?" Harry says soothingly, Louis sitting up on his forearms to watch Harry slick his own dick up.

And it’s so big and thick and long and obscene that all Louis can do is nod, like he’s hypnotized by Harry’s fat length, which seems silly. 

"You sure you’re ready? I can just finger you, or eat you out?"

Louis whines at those words, imagines Harry fingering him until he cums untouched, imagines Harry’s hands on his bum cheeks, eating him out.

(That’ll give him something to get off to).

But for now, Louis wants Harry inside him, wants that connection, wants to lose his virginity to this tall, charming, perfect man, because he may never have the chance to do so again. 

It’s a bit of a daze now, Louis’ mind being filled with a million thoughts and emotions that he’s not all that sure.

Harry’s kissing him again, and Louis feels the tip of the man’s cock against his entrance, kisses Harry back hard to keep his mind off the intrusion that’s about to happen. 

"Just relax," Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips, nudges his thick tip past Louis’ rim.

The boy nods, wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and focuses on on his breathing and on relaxing himself. 

It’s slow and there’s a sharp burn that thrives through Louis’ body at each inch that Harry pushes in.

It takes some time, and a lot of kissing and sweet words, but Harry eventually has himself fully inside Louis, balls plastered against the smaller boy’s bum cheeks.

Their hips are pressed together, bodies flushed. 

Harry kisses Louis once more, linguistic this time, as a way to praise him. “Doing so well baby, fuck, took all of me baby, doing amazingly.”

Louis nods and sniffles, Harry kissing the tears that slip down his red, plump cheeks.

"Want me to pull out?"

With a shake of his head, Louis relaxes himself even more, chases Harry’s lips with his own.

It’s overwhelming for them both.

The stretch and burn of Harry’s fat cock is almost too much for Louis. He’s tiny and Harry’s huge and he thinks that - by the laws of physics - something as big as Harry’s dick shouldn’t be allowed to fit into a space so small as Louis’ hole. 

But it’s not all that painful. Yes, it hurts, but it feels nice. He feels immensely full and connected to Harry.

And the pressure of Louis’ tightening walls, the heat and density of the boy’s tiny ring around his length feels so fucking good for Harry. 

Their eyes meet again and Harry presses his lips to Louis’ - a little forcefully this time.

Everything else is forgotten about. 

The age gap, Josh, everything. They just focus on one another, Harry’s dick pulsing inside of Louis’ tight heat. 

Louis trails a hand down his body to rest at his lower stomach, tiny palm feeling over where Harry’s tip so obviously sticks out through Louis’ skin. 

"Sh-shit, you’re really big,” Louis giggles breathlessly, rolls his small palm over the bump. 

Harry chuckles and bites his lip, places a hand over Louis’, their size difference being made evident. 

His spare hand goes to Louis’ hip and then he’s given his blessing.

"Move."

It’s like a godsend, the word that Harry’s been dying to hear. He slowly pulls his hips back, to the point where just his tip remains inside Louis. 

Then Harry pushes in - all the way. 

Louis cries out instantly, his tiny body feeling full and stretched once again. “Shit, Harry!”

Harry smiles and kisses Louis for the nth time, holds both his hips as a way to say hey, I’m here baby. 

It takes time, takes kisses and words for Harry to build up a rhythm, slow, gentle, but deep thrusts. 

Louis soon adjusts to Harry’s size. His body - eventually - familiarizes itself with the feeling; the stretch, the burn, the size.

And it feels right.

Although it’s taken some time, they seem to fit together.

Harry litters Louis’ skin with kisses, continuously praises him as he keeps his pace gently, gradually building it up into sharp, deep thrusts.

Then he hits that spot.

And Louis cries out, all high and throaty, grabs fists of Harry’s curls, tugs him down for a messy, wet kiss.

Harry grips Louis’ hips hard, sure to leave bruises there (that may have been intentional), and picks up his pace, beginning to fuck into Louis’ relentlessly, each thrust hitting his prostate. 

All the pain washes away from Louis’ body, replaced by utter pleasure as he tugs harshly on Harry’s hair, bucks his hips down to meet the elder boy’s hips. 

The sound of skin against skin fills out into the air, Harry’s deep, low grunts colliding with Louis’ high, girly whimpers as they kiss again, teeth clanking and tongues swirling. 

It’s perfect. 

Harry’s never had sex like this before, is used to a quick shag or blowjob. But this, with Louis, it’s different, amazing

He wants more.

Wants to be with Louis, wants to show him everything about sex, wants to hold him, kiss him, be with him. 

Then he slows his thrusts until he’s still, deep and fat inside Louis’ stretched hole, which earns a choked sound from the boy who looks up into his eyes. 

Louis’ about to speak, takes in some air to regain his breath; breath that’s whipped straight out of him when Harry kisses him suddenly.

But this time, it’s slow, lips dancing until they have their mouths apart, and Louis feels loved, thanks the lord for Harry’s existence. 

"Fuck, Hazz, move!" He pleads, tugs on Harry’s hair and sinks his teeth to Harry’s neck, mouthing at the salty skin there.

The elder one nods, licks and nips along the shell of Louis’ ear as he re-builds his thrusts, sharp, heavy snaps into Louis’ prostate. 

And that’s it, with one last thrust to his spot, Louis’ gone, crying out Harry’s name over and over as he releases heavily onto himself, streaks of white painting his torso. 

Louis’ walls tighten obscenely around Harry, and then he’s biting into the skin of the boy’s neck, stills himself to the point where it’s painful. 

"Fuck, Lou, where do I-"

"In me, please," Louis mumbles, his hands falling from Harry’s hair to his (surprisingly) large biceps. He grips them and falls back onto the sheets, Harry once again re-gaining his thrusts.

They kiss before Harry mewls out a deep, hoarse groan, spills hard and quick into Louis’ sensitive, tightening walls. 

It makes Louis feel impossibly full. He can feel beads of cum drip from his hole as Harry fucks him slow and sloppy, catches his lips in yet another kiss, this time slow and relaxing.

Harry deepens the kiss to keep Louis busy as he pulls out gently, which seems successful. 

He pulls away and collapses down beside the smaller boy, pulls him into his side and wraps a protective arm around him.

"Done so well darling, Jesus, took my dick so well, so perfect sweetie," Harry murmurs, brushes his fingers through the damp hair that’s stuck to the boy’s forehead. 

They’re both panting and Louis tangles their legs together, looks up at Harry with a lazy smile. “Thankyou.”

"S’okay love. now get some sleep baby," Harry whispers, presses soft kisses all over Louis’ face.

Louis giggles and nods, settles his head down in Harry’s chest and soon falls asleep.

Harry watches him for a while, whispers sweet words of praise to him before following shortly after, the covers hugging their sweaty, hot, entwined bodies. 

And that was that.

No words or anything were needed, there was just a connection.

And as Harry woke hours later, ate Louis out in the shower and walked him home, he promised the boy that there was more. 

That it wasn’t just a fuck.

That it wasn’t Harry taking advantage of Louis.

He promised him dates, flowers, presents, love, everything.

And the age-gap, Louis being under-age, Josh, their parents, everything else faded away. 

For when Harry kissed the small boy at the foot of his garden, Louis knew that it was more.

And as he practically skipped down his pathway, a tingly soreness in his lower regions, Louis felt on top of the world.

And as he ran though his house to wave Harry off through the upstairs window, he most definitely believed that there was more to come. 

Course babe, I don’t kiss and tell,

I shag and shout.