Louis is surrounded by dicks. Swimming in them. Wading through them like a gay gangster through piles of brightly coloured cash. Literally, they're strewn all over the floor like a dildornado’s hit the sex shop Louis works at.
It's not the first time he's bent over for dick, but he needs to believe there is a more dignified line of work destined for him, one where he doesn't have to pick up sex toys that some rowdy teenager knocked over.
He sighs, thinks once again about just getting a boring job at the tattoo shop Zayn works at across from The Craic. As always, he dismisses the thought. For the amount of ink he’s got, he himself can hardly even draw a straight line, let alone be trusted with a needle.
Niall could never run this place on his own, anyway. Louis' very good at his current job, and gets paid accordingly. He prides himself on knowing what his customers want, when half the time they don't know it themselves, too nervous or self-conscious. Mostly though, he prides himself on bringing joy to people. He knows it's unlikely they'll go home and tell their friends about "that charming bloke from the sex shop", but he is essentially giving people orgasms. It's a comforting thought, on Saturdays when he's too knackered to go pull, or when Niall asks him when he's "last seen a dick not made of silicone" (out of genuine friendly concern. Niall's not one to judge. And the answer is never too depressing; Louis does just fine on the real dick front).
This, though, picking up discarded dildos and vibrators, isn't all that comforting. The one disadvantage of this place is that it's located in the middle of a busy shopping centre. Sure, it allows him to take smoke breaks with cool guys like Zayn and Liam, and therefore enables very convenient tattoo-for-whip deals, but it also means most of the people who come in are shitty teenagers on dares to "go into the scary dirty shop" or "touch a blow up doll" or "knock every fucking dildo to the ground just to torture Louis Tomlinson".
There was once a time he'd call security on them. Nowadays he chases the shitheads out wielding a huge dildo. Nothing terrifies a straight sixteen year old boy more than the thought of being impaled by a cock bigger than his own. (The first time Louis pulled that stunt, he got a raise. He loves his boss. One day he'll sell Niall a good arse tickler and they'll both be indebted to each other.)
This is all to explain why, when he hears someone clear their throat, he turns around and instinctively holds up the base of a ribbed plug like a sword hilt. Then he actually sees the someone and nearly drops the ten dildos he'd so carefully picked up.
It's a tall man, young and lean and curly, winter pale in his big crewneck and tight tight tight jeans. Louis does the mental "creep check-list". His boots are too expensive for him to still be in school, his big green eyes are twinkling and decidedly not glassy, his cheeks are – devastatingly dimpled – but decidedly not a deep, embarrassed red, his lovely mouth is set in a pleasant smile and not a condescending frown, and his huge hands are where Louis can see them. Like, he's actually holding them up defensively, probably to ward off Louis' potential plug whipping. He's all a bit gorgeous. Louis' completely thrown off, just standing here and staring like an idiot, until Mr. Runway Ready says in a low voice, "I promise I'm not a threat. Please lower the dildo?"
"It's a butt plug," Louis corrects immediately. He lowers his weapon as an afterthought. "And I thought the shop was empty."
"Sorry," the guy says, remorse clear on his face. Everything is clear about him – the worry that he'd actually scared Louis, the amusement glittering in his eyes, the ease with which he carries himself. He's an open book. Louis' got the last earnest man in London standing in his sex shop. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were handling the vibrricane."
And he's cheeky, too. That immediately relaxes Louis. If jokes are involved, Louis can totally handle a conversation with easily the most attractive guy he's ever seen in real life. He smirks at him and cocks his hip, finally putting the packages on their shelves. "It was a dildornado, actually. Less severe than a vibrricane. Otherwise I would've dug out the jockstrap." He steps closer to the tall guy who is very tall, and whispers, like a secret, "Nobody wants to be the sex shop person who’s lost an eye to a flying dick."
The guy's belly laugh sounds almost inhuman in the empty shop, and Louis' positively smug. He can make Niall laugh by breathing in his direction, but he wants to fuck Niall considerably less than he does this man.
"No, I can't imagine someone would."
He's still smiling at Louis serenely, and his mouth is so big and appealing Louis can't think of a single appropriate thing to say. Which isn't good, since he hardly wants to scare him away. So he starts the new customer routine: going to the computer, pretending to be busy and giving the customer space so they won't feel watched or awkward while browsing, until Louis will make a joke to break the ice and then actually help them find what they need. In this case, Louis thinks the ice was broken when he threatened him with an anal plug, but he needs some space for his own sake.
He does watch him, though. Watches how he doesn't seem awkward at all. (Confidence in the face of soft to hardcore sex toys is a very specific turn-on very specific to Louis.) He watches the guy look around in general interest, fingers drumming on his lips attractively.
Usually Louis gets either bloody teenagers he can snark at, coy first-timers he can tease, or sleazy weirdoes who, unsupervised, would definitely get a tug in through the front pocket. This one doesn't look like a shy lesbian or a bumbling virgin, and his jeans are definitely too tight to fit a hand in his pocket discreetly. He's just cool and casual and friendly. Louis' utterly charmed.
Louis watches him scoff at the pornography and walk straight over to the vibrators. That's when he makes his move.
"Hi, I'm Louis," he starts.
"I'm Harry," the guy answers immediately, despite Louis not asking. It's probably actually his real name. That's probably actually his real bright smile. This beam of sunshine doesn't belong in a dark sex shop. He should get his toys hand-delivered and encased in diamonds.
"So," Louis continues, very professional. "Are you looking for a gift for a mate or a girlfriend?"
"Oh, for me," Harry replies, easy as anything, looking straight in Louis' eyes. "It's been a slow couple of months."
Louis tries to stay completely impassive, tries to keep any image out of his head, including but not limited to Harry stretched around one of the bigger dildos, losing his mind over a vibrator or spending hours with a remote controlled vibrating plug in him. He keeps all of that firmly outside of his head. Harry just looks at him with hooded eyes, like he's waiting for the implication to sink in, before he adds, "Thought I'd try something new."
"Oh." Louis coughs. He's got like, ten completely filthy things he could say, but Harry's got this effortless charm going for him and Louis' not sure if he's being flirted with. "So you're a beginner?"
"With toys? Yeah. With cock, not so much." His voice has dropped even lower and he starts biting his full bottom lip and he is so, so flirting. Well then.
Louis tousles his messy fringe and tugs on his shirt unconsciously so it stretches over his shoulders a bit.
"Let's introduce you, then." He puts a hand on the small of Harry's back and leads him to the display shelf. "Did you have anything in mind?"
"Oh, um. Not really. Can I?" He reaches out but waits for Louis' nod to actually pick up a vibrator. Louis has to bite his lip so as not to laugh. Of course he went for the Jack Rabbit.
He looks absolutely fascinated by the thing, giggling to himself when he pokes the little rabbit sitting on the handle. "That's adorable."
"Harold, honestly," Louis says, covering his mouth. "Vibes aren't adorable."
Harry looks at him like he's just broken his heart. He pouts ridiculously and holds the rabbit up next to his face. He might actually be a six year old brat trapped in an absurdly hot tall wood nymph. "Look at the little bunny," he pleads, as if his gravelly sex voice could ever have a cute inflection, as if Louis can look at anything but his pouty lip. "What does it do?"
Louis rolls his eyes. "It's for the clit. External stimulation."
"Oh." Harry's pout turns into a frown in an instant, and he looks at the vibrator distrustfully. "Bums never get cute things."
"Oh my god." He snatches it from Harry's hands and replaces it with his personal favourite, a pink 6.75" one with a steep curve at the head. Harry lifts it for inspection, and it's dwarfed in his big palm, his spidery fingers wrapped around the shaft. Louis can't help but think what his own cock would look like in his hand, if he'd touch it as surely or appreciatively.
He's so absorbed in staring he almost misses it when Harry asks a question. "Isn't it a bit small for a sex toy?"
Louis arches an eyebrow and presses himself to Harry's side, puts his smaller hand on top of Harry's and squeezes. "Well, the vibrations get very intense, so you don't need much in terms of length. Plus it's soft silicone, so it's got more give to it." He moves even closer, adds quietly, "It'll fill you up nicely."
Harry breathes sharply, his fingers fluttering under Louis'. Even if this thing doesn't leave the shop, Louis likes the story they make. He'd tell Niall all about the fit customer who wanted a Jack Rabbit for himself. He might possibly vaguely perhaps even wank to Harry's big hands pumping a thick cock.
"So I shouldn't go for the 12 inch dildo?"
Louis snorts. "There's also a massive inflatable dildo that could fill your living room, never mind your arse, but you said you wanted something cute. We have this one in pink, purple and light blue."
Harry laughs again, sudden and shrill and delightful. "Alright, let's see then." He reaches over with a long arm, so as not to leave Louis' side, and grabs the package of the display vibrator. He's doing the thing with his lips again. Louis wants to kill him. "Eight speeds? How is that even possible? Slow, normal, fast, really fast, super fast – "
"No, you idiot," Louis interrupts him before he reaches super duper fast. "Three speeds, eight functions."
"What does that mean?"
Louis rolls his eyes and takes the package away, so Harry could wrap both hands around the vibrator. He turns it on, and a giggle escapes Harry's lips. He shakes his hands exaggeratedly, like Louis let him hold a cement mixer and not a beginner's vibe. "You click on the base to switch," Louis explains.
"You click it," Harry says. "I wanna feel what it's like."
Louis doesn't mention that the whole point of it is that the user can fuck themselves. He likes that he's being invited into the process. He's been working here for over a year and has never met someone quite like Harry.
So he clicks it, waits between functions so Harry can get a feel for them. Harry's treating it like some scientific experiment, humming and nodding along when he gets the "catches" of each mode. One is faster, one is in bursts, one is slower but more powerful. "Does it come with a manual? I like instructions," Harry says, innocently enough if it weren't for the pointed look he's shooting Louis.
It'll be too obvious to offer himself as an instructor, so Louis just shakes his head. "It's fairly simple, though."
Harry sort of. Pauses. "Um. Are you speaking from personal experience?"
And this is the line between professional courtesy and cheeky hopefulness. Louis leaps over it giddily. "Yes. Mine's purple, though."
Harry nods very seriously, like he's saying that's a sexy thought you put in my head, thank you Mr. Horny Shopkeeper. Only what he actually says is much weirder. "Does that mean if I buy this we'll have a secret vibrator bond? A bum bond? Like you'll feel it when I fuck myself with mine?"
Louis doesn't know what to say, so he just doesn't open his mouth. Harry keeps smiling to himself happily. He's asking Louis random questions about who designs these things and if he gets a lot of male customers and who is generally kinkier and does he get couples or is it all lonely singles like Harry himself?
Louis' helplessly endeared, but every question takes him a while to answer because his brain can't get over the fact they're holding a vibrator that could be up Harry's perky bum in a couple of hours. It makes him wonder if Harry's this chatty when he gets fucked too, or if he's just as flustered by what they're doing and his only outlet is to talk shit. He also wonders how often he gets fucked. Or how he likes to get fucked. Basically any situation in which a beautiful big guy like Harry gets fucked is of interest to Louis.
The seventh setting is the one that gets him to stop rambling. It starts the same as number six, and Harry's about to comment on it, but his mouth snaps shut. It stops vibrating altogether for a couple of seconds, before pulsing twice, more powerful than any other setting, and then it fades to number six and back to nothing. Harry's hands tighten on it and he doesn't have a single comment. It's like his whole body shivers every time the vibe pulses hard.
Louis cannot help himself. He stretches a bit so he can whisper in Harry's ear, "That's what I'd do to you, when you're close to coming. Just think. You'll be so overwhelmed but you won't want it to end, not really, so I'll switch it to seven, give you just a few seconds to catch your breath but then it'll rock inside you, right against your spot, so hard you won't be able to breathe, but before you can finally come it'll stop again. How long do you think you could keep it there, just staying right on the edge?"
"I couldn't," Harry whispers, definitely shivering now. "I just couldn't tease myself like that, I'd have to touch my cock."
Louis slips his hands from Harry's fingers to his wrist, where he clutches hard. "Not if you're cuffed."
Harry actually gasps. When Louis looks up his own breath is knocked out of him – Harry's finally affected, for the first time since entering the sex shop. His cheeks are properly flushed and his pupils are blown wide, staring at Louis like he's already lost it. He's probably half-hard. God knows Louis' jeans feel tight. "If I was cuffed I wouldn't be able to fuck myself at all. I'd need someone to do it for me."
Louis' hands only tighten on Harry's delicate wrist. "You would."
For a moment the only sound in the shop is the vibrator shaking in Harry's hand. They both stare at each other, hearts beating hard. "What's number eight?" Harry asks, voice deeper than Louis' heard it so far. He sounds straight out of a porno.
"What?" Louis asks, distracted and confused.
"The eighth setting, what does it do?"
Louis smirks. "Wanna find out now or later?"
Despite all the flirting, it's still a bit of a surprise when Harry shoves him against the counter and kisses him. Louis' quick to recover, though, and doesn't hesitate before reaching up and wrapping his hands around Harry's neck, kissing him hard right off the bat. He would have gone for soft and tender, really, if there weren't a vibrator squeezed between their chests.
Harry's a sweet guy, as far as Louis can tell. He should have a tongue fucking into his mouth. Or his arse. It should definitely be Louis' tongue, though. If a guy this hot is interested in him, Louis is not going to let it go anytime soon. He hoists himself up on the counter, probably knocking over the strap-ons and harnesses they'd just received, and pulls Harry against him.
Harry's practically sighing into his mouth, nudging Louis' knees apart so he can squeeze himself between them and kiss him again. Louis does him one better and wraps his legs around Harry's hips. This time Harry definitely sighs, high in his throat, so Louis tugs a little harder on his curls and sucks his tongue into his mouth.
He's just… so, so lovely, and Louis' always been loud but he can appreciate Harry's deep voice wavering between kisses, little sounds escaping him when Louis clenches his legs or swirls his tongue like he would around his cockhead.
He ducks down and sucks on Harry's neck, but then Harry drops the vibe right on Louis' lap. He swears loudly and they both spring apart.
Louis turns off the vibrator hurriedly. Snogging is great, but he doesn't want to actually come in his pants at work. He's got shit to do. And despite the late hour, someone might still drop in. He takes a few deep breaths, tries to ignore Harry's expensive smell all over him. Harry looks utterly debauched, and he’s definitely hard against Louis’ thigh. Louis wants to say something, but accidentally whines.
Harry bites his wet, red lip coyly, and says, "Come to mine? Now?"
Louis huffs primly and crosses his arms. "Tonight? We only just met."
"I… I can't wait, I'm sorry, I want – but if you – "
"Christ, Harold, I'm taking the piss." He gestures to himself, still sitting with his dick hard on the counter of his workplace, surrounded by harnesses. Harry actually grunts in relief.
But Louis remembers the way he reacted to the thought of being teased. "Were you kidding when you said you, uh, liked instructions?"
"Not at all." Something takes over Harry then, and he stands ramrod straight and clasps his own hands behind his back, the picture of prim and proper. His hair is messy and his headband is skewed and there's a light lovebite under his jaw that Louis seriously needs to improve on.
The fact he's so willing and trusting – Christ, anyone could wreck this boy. Louis feels suddenly protective of Harry, a near stranger, and he tugs him closer again so he can wrap his arms around him. "Give me your address. I'll close up here and then come over. I'll ring up your vibrator but I'll keep it on me, 'cause I know if you take it home you'll end up using it and making a mess of yourself before I'm even there." Harry's fingers tighten on Louis' biceps, either in resignation or just arousal. He doesn't argue, doesn't even consider that Louis' just offered to potentially rob him blind and leave him hanging. "I'll let you have something else, though, as collateral."
"Yeah?" he asks, excitement barely concealed in his voice. "What should I get?"
"A plug," Louis says immediately. Harry looks kind of confused, so Louis shoves his hand in Harry's back pocket and adds, "To keep you nice and full while you wait for your order."
Harry just breathes into Louis' ear and gives one good grind against Louis' knee, before he pulls away completely again and adjusts himself. "Alright. Where are the plugs then?"
Louis hops off the counter and shoves his hair to one side, scratching his beard absently. He's really trying to keep it together. He's disoriented in his own shop. Where are the plugs?
Ah. He browses the silicone ones, trying to decide on something for a beginner, when suddenly he feels Harry's hands come to rest on his hips and his lips brushing the tip of his ear. He really is obnoxiously tall. "I want the big one," he whispers, and Louis' brain goes sort of blank. The fact Harry's rocking gently against his arse is not helping matters. His fingers inch from Louis' waist to his crotch. "Got a feeling I'll need it."
God. What if they squeeze in a handjob? It's not like Niall’s ever bothered to set up security cameras in this shithole. He could even fuck Harry over the counter, just bend him over and use the facility to its full extent. And then what?
No, Louis realises. It's crucial to gain access to Harry's house. Then he can negotiate actually going on a date outside of the sex shop. That would be a major score. Louis could really use a tall boyfriend who's into being bossed around and isn't intimidated by Louis' private collection of adult toys. So he grabs the large-sized plug (hand hovering for a second over the vibrating ones before deciding against it), and shoves Harry away from him. They're doing this properly.
On his way back to the register, he passes the BDSM section and stops. He hears Harry stumble behind him and rolls his eyes. "Do you already have cuffs?"
"Um," is Harry's only reply. Louis takes it as a no.
"Do you prefer metal, Velcro or fuzzy ones? Or probably ones you can release yourself out of?" He looks over his options, eyes lighting up suddenly. Should he bring up rope? They don't have the fancy silk stuff at The Craic, but Harry would look gorgeous in green. Well, he'd look gorgeous in anything. However, considering he still hasn't answered the cuff debate, Louis probably shouldn't bring it up until, like, the second date at least.
He looks over at where Harry's staring, overwhelmed. He doesn't usually touch strangers this much, but Harry's so big and inviting and Louis likes him, so he reaches out and brushes a hand over his arm. He seems comforted by the touch. Louis can't help but smile at him. "Love, it's your choice. I could just be pointing out the most expensive ones."
Harry snorts, not even regarding the possibility, and looks at the shelves. He brushes his hands over the Velcro cuffs, checking their flexibility, and Louis can already see them around his wrists, keeping his hands behind his broad back when he sucks cock, or keeping them spread apart, or –
"I think you like these ones," Harry observes. Louis tears his eyes away from his hands and looks up at his face. The idiot's grinning.
Louis rolls his eyes and takes the pair from him, tossing them on the register next to the plug and the vibrator. He adds his favourite kind of flavoured lube for good measure. Harry doesn't argue. He pays with a card, adding yet more proof that he has zero sex shop etiquette, and then writes his number and address on the back of the receipt with one of the penis-pens sitting on the counter. His smile is blinding when he takes his discreet paper bag (sans the vibe) and asks, "You'll come, yeah?"
"Of course. And you won't, yeah?"
Harry only nods eagerly. He seems a bit unsure for a moment, and then just leans over the counter and gives Louis a smacking kiss. He leaves the shop with a bounce in his step.
Louis sits in the dark office of the shop for ten minutes, trying to make sense of the past half hour. When he doesn't reach any significant conclusion, he gets up and starts closing up shop.
He considers driving straight over to Harry's, but then he doesn't want to seem too eager, but then he feels guilty about making promises and Harry thinking for one second he's not going to keep them, and then he texts Harry that he'll be there soon, and then Harry texts back I'm waiting xx and adds a picture of the plug packaging ripped open and empty next to the lube, and then Louis almost crashes his car and drives straight to his own flat for a cold shower.
All in all, it's only two hours between Harry leaving the shop and Louis knocking on his door.
Louis' mostly cool and collected, dressed in tight jeans and a comfortable T-shirt. Harry, on the other hand, looks like a wreck when he opens the door.
He's only wearing jean shorts, obviously thrown on two seconds ago, and his heavily tattooed upper body is left exposed and – Jesus, why would a person who's built like this ever wear a crewneck? He's got abs, for Christ sake, and sharp V lines and hard nipples and a suggestive tattoo right over his hip bone. Louis wants to grind against his pecs.
The most important part, though, is that he's sweaty and flushed and his hair's a complete mess and his pupils are huge and his lips are puffy. He doesn't actually speak, but the way he's staring at Louis pleadingly somehow says it all. Louis steps into the flat and shuts the door behind him, dropping the paper bag and not saying anything either before throwing himself at Harry and kissing him deep and filthy.
Harry clenches strong hands on Louis' hips and plasters himself to Louis' front, shoves his rock hard cock against Louis' belly. He needs so much it's pouring out of him, in the way he's kissing Louis, in the way his hands are shaking. His skin is fiery to the touch, and Louis lets his nails sink in when he runs his hands over Harry's broad back and down to his hips.
There's not really a courteous way to grope someone's bum, but if there were, Louis would totally – not do it. He just drops both of his hands on Harry's pert little arse and squeezes, moaning a little when he can feel the base of the plug poking out of him. Harry makes a breathy sound and grinds harder against Louis. He actually used the plug – actually waited for a virtual stranger to come to his home and fuck him while he's already loose and open. Louis definitely wants to keep him.
He grabs hold of Harry's hair and pulls him away gently, to at least stop him from kissing Louis' mouth like he'll die if he doesn't. "You're amazing," Louis says reverently, nudging the base of the plug and watching when Harry's eyes flutter shut. "Just stunning. Where's the bedroom?"
Harry stumbles over his own feet, but manages to steer him in the right direction. He's still clumsy about it, big hands pawing all over Louis, and he keeps leaning in for more kisses. Louis grants them happily, already hard from the sight of him, his desperation.
When they reach the bed he pushes Harry onto it, and it's fascinating, really, to see him land on his arse and then squirm for a long time, eyes glassy and lip drawn into his mouth. He's so beautiful already, Louis sort of wants to make it worse. He clears his throat, and Harry tenses up, ready for anything. "Take off your shorts and wait. Alright?"
Harry whines low, his body moving on its own, twisting on the mattress. It occurs to Louis that he hasn't actually said anything since he came in. "Harry, is that alright? How are you feeling?"
Harry nods, as if to clear his head. "Yeah, yeah that's alright," he finally says, his voice throaty. Louis thinks about Harry stretching himself open with his fingers, playing with the plug before pushing it in slowly, trying to get used to the friction it provides every time he moves his hips, and groaning himself hoarse. Maybe it would've been better if Harry hadn't spoken after all. "I'm just. You know how you can get so turned on you're light-headed for a minute?" Louis swallows and nods. "It's been like that on and off for an hour."
"Fuck." Louis opens his mouth, closes it, and then just says fuck again and storms out of the room. He grabs the vibrator from the entryway and, as an afterthought, stops in the kitchen to grab a water bottle. He nearly drops them both when he returns to the bedroom and finds Harry in his naked glory, his cock big and hard against his belly, his knees drawn up and his hand stroking the base of the plug. Louis doesn't know if he's pushing it in or out or just checking that it's there, but either way he looks completely blissed out, even though Louis knows he's painfully hard. He can see.
Arousal coils deep in him, and he gets that rush Harry talked about earlier. He takes off his own clothes in record timing and kneels between Harry's legs, crouching so he can see how stretched and pretty and ready he is around the plug.
He swats Harry's hand away and it's like Harry just now realises that Louis' back, because he breathes in sharply and his eyes are flitting all over Louis' body. His mouth falls open. Louis lets go of the plug for a moment and stretches up so he can pin Harry's wrists down next to his head and kiss him.
It's slow, this time, both of them struggling just to breathe, and Louis lets himself settle on top of him so he can feel the heat of Harry's skin pressed to his. Harry moans when Louis rubs against his cock, his knees quivering until his legs just fall open around Louis. He thinks briefly that they should have gotten a cock ring. Which reminds him of the things they did get.
"Babe, do you want to be cuffed? It's okay if you don't," he asks between sweet kisses. They did only just meet. Louis isn't sure he'd let Harry handcuff him. Well, he'd probably let Harry do anything to him, but Harry should definitely not trust Louis.
It takes him a moment, but eventually Harry shakes his head. Not for the reason Louis thought. "No, I wanna touch you. You're so fit, Jesus Christ."
Louis smirks and gives him a biting kiss. "Alright. Next time, then. Where's the lube?"
Harry gets frantic at that, once he realises Louis intends to move things along. "It fell, I reckon," he says, trying to buck Louis off so he can get it. Louis laughs and releases Harry's wrists, rolling away so he can look for the lube himself. Harry's totally staring at his arse. Louis totally doesn't mind.
Once he finds it (amidst a whole pile of condoms, which does nothing to him) he settles back between Harry's legs. Louis gently pulls his knees back up so he can get a good look. Harry's hands aren't restrained, but they are effectively useless, clenching and unclenching in the sheets.
Louis leans down and kisses Harry's inner thigh, tugging his right leg up and over his shoulder so he's completely exposed. Harry throws a hand over his face in response. His inner arm is tattooed. He's. Painfully sexy. Louis' frankly shocked he's even found himself in this position.
There's no time for shock, though. Louis grabs the base of the plug and twists it, keeping a steady hand on Harry's leg so he doesn't get kicked in the face. Harry's body arches up, like it doesn't want Louis to take away the plug and leave him empty. Louis curses and pulls it out carefully but swiftly. Harry arches again, clenching visibly on nothing, and Louis' absolutely gobsmacked.
Harry used so much lube it trickles out of him, and he's so wet and pink and Louis' got two fingers tucked inside him before he can even think about it. Harry whines and bucks wildly, riding his fingers for all he's worth. His prostate's so overstimulated that Louis finds it in under a minute, and then withdraws his fingers just as suddenly as he'd thrust them in.
Harry's leg kicks out again, and Louis smacks his thigh and shushes him. It works instantly. Louis gulps, so hard he's dripping at the tip and Harry hasn't even touched him yet. He wants to fill him up himself, wants to fuck him into the mattress until he's a sobbing mess, but he can already tell what the vibrator will do to him. He wants that more. He wants to be the first guy to fuck Harry with a sex toy. Which is a bit personal of a thought, but whatever.
As soon as he's got the vibrator out of the package he just rolls the shaft along Harry's thigh teasingly, so he'll remember what the soft silicone feels like. "Lou, wait, before – please," Harry mumbles incoherently.
Louis stops and looks up from Harry's hole to his face. It's still covered by his toned arm, so Louis has to gently pry it away. "What do you need, love?"
Harry blinks at him prettily, helplessly. "Before you put the lube, I – fuck, I just really – I kept thinking about – "
"Harry," Louis cuts him sternly. "I'll do it. Just tell me."
Harry takes a few deep breaths and says, "I kept thinking about sucking you off."
Louis' eyes immediately dart to Harry's full, unbelievably pink lips, and his cock twitches sympathetically. But Harry wouldn't have stopped him for – oh. God. Harry has to say that. "But I wasn't going to slick myself up."
"Right," Harry says, biting his lip again.
Louis' hand tightens on the base of the vibrator. "D'you wanna suck it off?"
Harry's eyes brighten and he nods so eagerly his sweaty fringe flops over his forehead. "Just for a bit, I just couldn't get it out of my head – how it'll feel like, and I needed something in my mouth but since you had it I couldn't try and the plug wasn't – "
"Harry, please," he says, voice strained, giving his cock a few jerks because his brain is about to shut down and Harry's not helping. He slides up Harry's body and kisses him again, notes how wide he opens his mouth just for his tongue, and suddenly it's just as important to Louis as it is to Harry.
So he leans back, watches how wet and wonderful Harry's lips are, and then taps them with the head of the vibrator. His first observation is that it's only a few shades brighter than Harry's lips. His second observation is that Harry's eagerness will probably kill him in the near future.
His mouth instantly falls open, and Louis gives him more, staring as Harry's tongue curls around the curved tip. He keeps steady eye contact with Louis, is the thing, even when he starts sucking hard enough that his cheeks hollow, and Louis can't help it, starts grinding against Harry's thigh.
Harry tilts his head up to take more, almost meeting Louis' fingers, and then pulls back. Before Louis knows it he's bobbing his head like it's real, like Louis' straddling his chest and feeding him his cock. "Fucking hell, Harry," he mutters.
It seems to encourage him, as he hollows his cheeks again and makes a needy noise around the fake cock. Louis can practically feel it on his own, and he can't, he just can't. He tugs it out of Harry's mouth, marvels for a second at how wet it is, how wet Harry's lips and chin are. "I'm gonna fuck you now," he says. Harry just nods, dazed.
Louis shuffles down and throws both of Harry's legs over his shoulders. It's like his brain stutters – one second where he still considers chucking the vibrator and ramming into him, one second where he nudges just the tip of the vibe against Harry's rim, and then a second later he's got the whole shaft stuffed in Harry's hole and Harry keens, bucking his hips hard. "Please," he breathes, hands coming down to scratch his own thighs. "Please, Louis, fuck me already, please, fuck."
So Louis pulls out and thrusts back in, making sure he's got the right angle so the curve hits Harry's spot. Harry fucks back against him, as much as he can with his legs thumping Louis' back, and Louis can only stare at how he takes it like it was tailor made. He turns his head to suck hard on Harry's skin, scratch him with his stubble, and sets a steady pace with his hand, resting it on his own thigh so it doesn't get tired.
He doesn't warn Harry before he turns the vibrator on. And Harry fucking loses it. It's breathtaking, the way he throws his head back and his hips slam down on the mattress like it might be too much. A primal sound rips out of him and he clenches all over, his fingers tight in the sheets, his legs around Louis' head, his arse around the vibrator. It's like he can't contain the feeling.
Louis continues with the easy rhythm he's already built up, and Harry just can't stop moving, his hips stuttering, his hands everywhere, his mouth slack on a gasp. Louis himself is shaking so hard he's afraid he might actually lose grip on the vibrator, so he stops looking at Harry's face and concentrates on what he's doing. He changes the setting up to three, so it's not faster but stronger, gets at Harry harder. Harry writhes again, bearing down to take the vibe deeper.
"You're taking it so fucking well," he says, can't keep it inside anymore. "You look so good."
Harry whimpers and shoves his head into the pillow, like the attention is too much. So Louis grabs one of Harry's hands and tugs on it, settles it on Harry's lower stomach, under his leaking cockhead. He presses down hard and thrusts up at the same time, asking, "Can you feel it in you?"
Harry doesn't warn him before he comes. All it takes is that one push and he's falling off the edge, so hard there's come all the way up to his pecs, covering Louis' knuckles. He cries out and shakes for a long while, stunned and fucked-out, and Louis' so overwhelmed he doesn't even notice that he's still fucking him in short pumps. Harry whines again, his legs falling to the mattress and spreading wide. It must change the angle, because he hisses and tugs on Louis' hair with one dirty hand. Louis turns off the vibrations, but doesn't pull it out, not yet. Harry still sags with relief. There's a fair chance he hasn't breathed in five minutes.
Louis makes sure the vibe is deep enough that it won't slip out, and then lets go of it so he can shake his hands. The last thing he needs right now is stiff wrists. They're absolutely not done.
He stretches over Harry's body, and Harry instinctively leans up for kisses. Louis smiles at him, drinking in how gorgeously wrecked he is, but continues with his original mission to get the water bottle. "Baby, open your eyes," Louis says gently.
It takes Harry a while, like he's really drifting off somewhere, and maybe he is, to a certain degree. But his eyes open and he beams up at Louis. Louis shakes the bottle in front of his face, and Harry smiles even harder. "Look at you, taking care of me," he coos, and Louis rolls his eyes. He's far too hard for this casual exchange.
"Drink some fucking water," he snaps, tweaking Harry's nipple. Harry giggles and shifts, his eyes shuttering for a second when the vibrator moves, but otherwise he's impossibly cheery. He's very pointedly wrapping his lips around the mouth of the bottle and hollowing his cheeks again. And he's here and he's still naked and there's still a 7" vibrator inside of him, but Louis' brain isn't done processing the last series of events and he doesn't think he'll ever be soft again. Maybe he'll get a grace period while he pisses or something, but then he'll just remember Harry's face after an hour of having a plug splitting him open and he'll get hard again. He's getting, like, sympathy-spasms. It's a thing.
He looks away from Harry's face, and notices that for how pleased he is, he's still hard.
And they only tried three functions. Out of eight.
Genius strikes. He reaches for the lube and scoots up Harry's dirty torso to his chest, causing him to splutter and spill some of the water down his chin. The fact Louis' dick is bobbing in front of his face is mesmerising for them both. Louis puts the water away and then grabs a fistful of Harry's hair, just to get his attention. "How about I ride you and fuck you at the same time?"
Harry makes a small, helpless noise, but his hips jump, so Louis guesses he's on board with his brilliant plan. He leans down to kiss his ear, and then hands him the lube. "Prep me then. Can't wear me out yet," he says, wringing his wrist in demonstration.
At least Louis fucked some sense into him. Harry's less of a desperate, incoherent mess now, manages a cheeky smirk when he pops open the lube and covers two long fingers. "Do I get to tease you now? As payback?"
Before Louis can answer (no), Harry already reaches behind him and tucks the tip of one finger inside. It feels so fucking good after just watching the hottest show in history, it's like any contact will do. Louis hangs his head and plants his hands on Harry's strong shoulders, grinding down on his finger to get more. Harry gasps quietly, but is quick to accommodate, fucking in and out of him at a solid pace.
He doesn't even need instructions, knows just when to crook his finger, when to add another one, when to stretch and when to just let him ride. Harry's fingers need to be explored thoroughly at some point. As it is, Louis' about to come all over Harry's face, so he makes the executive decision to pull off.
He tries to decide what to do next, but he's a bit dizzy and a lot hot and Harry's still staring at him with a mixture of awe and smugness. Louis forgoes anything but kissing him for a couple of minutes.
Harry's quite appreciative of that, apparently big on kissing. His hands settle on Louis' thighs, still spread over his torso, and he kisses him deeply and passionately, like you do in romance novels or movies. If they made a movie about a horny sex shop salesperson. Maybe a dirty movie. Maybe they could make their own home movie.
Jesus, he spurts a little pre-come at the thought. He detaches from Harry's lips to see that it landed on Harry's throat. It was a mistake, of course, since Harry with an unoccupied mouth is a menace to all phallic things, especially phalluses. He pokes out his tongue and flicks the tip of Louis' cock, making him want – just want, want want want.
So he gets his cock as far away from Harry's greedy mouth as he can. Which is to say he does a 180 and settles back down so his back is to Harry's face. He doesn't need to hear Harry's Jesus fucking Christ Louis to see how that affected him – he's got a front row seat to his cock hardening fully again. His big, thick, lovely dick that should have been in Louis ten hours ago.
He doesn't bottom often, let alone with strangers, but he can see the pink handle of the vibrator jutting out of Harry and he knows his plan is genius. He makes one last trip off of Harry's body to grab a condom, then rolls it on Harry and gives him a few slick tugs. Harry's still grabbing his hips, but Louis rather likes that so he doesn't ask him to stop. Instead, he grabs the base of Harry's cock himself, and tries to kneel right over it.
He nails it on the third try, and if he had expected to just hop on Harry's cock and ride him like a porn star, he finds it's a bit more complicated than that. It takes him a while to get used to the stretch and burn, and he ends up sinking down agonizingly slow. He thinks it's quite impressive that his erection hasn't flagged for a second during the process, probably due to Harry making (very pornographic) needy noises behind him and slipping his fingers next to his cock to "help him adjust". Louis' just helpless to fight against the teasing; he's got both hands squeezing Harry's thighs and the trying to breathe thing. It's not really working. He's panting out little breaths and squirming over Harry's cock, until he's finally settled as deep as he can go. Christ.
He's just sitting there for a moment, staring at Harry's infinite legs and wriggling, until Harry whispers, "Lou, please."
So Louis moves. He starts with small circles with his hips, just to get a general direction, and then – yes, it definitely gets easier when he finds his spot. He clenches tight around Harry and fuck, it feels like he's ready to fucking explode, too many things happening at once, too much heat coursing through his body. From there to bouncing on Harry's cock takes little conviction.
He loves this part. He loves feeling so stretched, loves working his thighs, loves listening to Harry falling apart behind him. He feels high on it, whole body jarring every time Harry nails his prostate. His merciless pace barely gives Harry any wiggle room, but Harry does thrust up at key points. His hands are probably leaving bruises on Louis' skin, and fuck if that doesn't get him off.
He waits until he's close – and considering the fact he's been close for, like, a million years, it's not a long wait – and reaches between Harry's stretched legs to turn the vibrator on. Harry's hips snap up at that, jostling Louis violently and making him cry out because that was fucking exquisite, but it's nearly drowned out by the sound Harry makes.
He's basically clawing at Louis' hipbones now, overwhelmed and desperate and just out of it. He keeps cursing, nonsensical little cries like, "Fuck, Lou, you look so fucking good taking me like that – your arse – fuck me please". Louis would like that to be the soundtrack of the movie made about his life.
He switches between the modes quickly, lingering on six because it's the one that fits and starts, and Harry fucks into him hard and Louis' fingers slip away because it feels amazing and he can't fucking focus, just thinking about both their arses being pounded at the same time.
Finally, finally he reaches lucky number seven, and makes sure to sink all the way down so that when the vibrator does its job, Harry arches so high he nearly bounces Louis clear off the bed. It's devastating, is what it is, and when the vibrations stop and Harry settles back down, Louis scrambles to readjust the angle before the vibrator comes to life and Harry thrusts up again, nails digging into Louis' skin. Louis can't take it anymore. He wraps one hand around the base of the vibrator and one around his own cock, and pumps both of them in tandem.
He doesn't know if they come at the same time. He doesn't know much of anything, really, other than the thought that sends him over the edge – when he sits down directly on Harry's pelvis, he imagines he can feel the vibrations himself.
He's got just enough presence of mind to dismount and get rid of the condom and the vibrator. Definitely nothing beyond snuggling up to a passed out Harry and stretching out his aching legs for a while. Harry kisses him behind his ear and then snores loudly. Louis guesses that's just something he'll have to deal with. He's out for the count in minutes anyway, snoring or not.
Louis wakes up sore all over, and more pleased than he's probably ever felt. He starts shifting, trying to figure out if he wants to piss or just shower, when Harry makes a soft sleepy sound and tightens his arms around Louis' middle. Since they’ve somehow ended up spooning.
"You sneaking out?" Harry asks, more of a growl than anything. Louis hopes he's not a singer or something. Shit, he doesn't even know his last name. (He's already planning out the first date.)
"Nope," he answers easily, startled by the deep quality of his own voice. He kisses Harry's hand, disgusting but the closest kissable thing to his mouth. "Staying right here."
"Good." He curls up even tighter around Louis, warming him up all over. "We still haven't figured out the eighth setting."
Louis snorts. "Gotta leave something for the second date."
He can definitely feel Harry's smile grow against his nape. "What about the third?"
"Ah, Harold. Don't forget I work at an adult toy store. We've got plenty of things to figure out."
Harry actually makes a pleased little noise. "Gonna need lots of dates."
"Yup." It's as simple as that. His heart's definitely not pounding.
"Good thing you work at a sex shop, then."
Good thing indeed.