Captain Hook -- or as he'd formerly been known before the loss of his hand, 'Cap'n Harry' -- had been there to witness the arrival of the first ever lost boy, Louis. He'd been a shy, innocent little thing and only eight years old. It was hard to believe the same boy was sat before him now, so filled out, so curvaceous, so alluring, going by the alias 'Peter Pan'.
Of course, no one aged a day in Neverland, but as a young child, Louis had developed a habit, an addiction, that had caused him and many others much strife in his time and he continued it even to this day. He flies high, above the clouds until he reaches the 'normal' world, because as the first lost boy, he craves to know what being a 'normal' child is like, how it is to grow up, though he's terrified of ever becoming an adult. He sits and watches children in their homes and grows attached to them and their families, even from afar. And when it gets too much, he swoops in with his sass and his confident smiles, luring the little boys back with him under the pretence of never having to grow up, of having fun forever. For Louis, he does this because he believes bringing them back will give him the life he never lived, that he'll be able to recreate it right here. And for a time, it works. He becomes their leader, their older brother which is how such a shy boy became so extroverted. But it never lasts long until the other boys are lost too, and they lose their own grip on reality and become useless to the desire Louis needs filling -- they stop bringing any normalcy to the equation, and once again he finds himself flying high above the clouds in search of his next venture, his next 'victims'.
But each time it costs him, because whilst in the 'real' world, time speeds up and his age increases. At first, it's indiscernible, the difference between an 8 year old and a 9 year old is subtle enough to allude the eye, and Louis managed to ignore the warning signs. Harry had seen, though. He'd tried to warn the young boy, it was how their own rivalry had begun -- Pan had believed the Captain to be a grown up like all the rest, mean and no fun, and had defied against him. He didn't realise that Hook himself was the mere age of 19, because to an 8 year old, that's ancient.
Of course, when Louis began to hit puberty during his trips, the signs were too obvious for even he to deny, and Harry had watched the younger develop into the fine looking young man he'd become today, surrounded by boys aged between 5 and 11, who'd be trapped this way forever. And suddenly Hook doesn't seem like he's the old one, the adult, and slowly Louis has begun to call on him more and more for company, to fill the lonely void that fills his very soul. And still, the younger is steadily ageing, because he still can't seem to quit the habit, the addiction, of observing 'normal' life -- it fascinates him, Hook has noticed, and his eyes light up each time he regales details back to the Captain. He truly looks like the eight year old boy Harry had first met all those many years ago, whenever he's that happy and excited.
But he's not that young anymore. It's hard to place an exact age on a boy who only ages a few weeks every year, but to look at him Harry would guess him to be 15 or 16, though he's far surpassed that in years. He's much shorter than the Captain, maybe even by a full foot, but Harry's always been rather tall. He has dark blondish-brown hair, messy and boyish as it curls around his features, which in themselves are quite the sight to behold. It's clear that as he ages, he'll become all straight lines and edges with such sculpted cheekbones and such an angular face, but right now, this perfection is cushioned by youthfulness, his angles and edges all softened and slightly rounded -- in Harry's opinion, he's beautiful. He's small framed, to match his small height, but somewhere along the way he's developed the most curvy hips Harry has ever seen on a boy, a tiny waist to emphasise this. And it's getting harder each time they meet for Harry to not stare at his perfectly rounded behind -- not helped by the skin tight material of the clothes he chooses to wear.
Due to the way Louis has aged, and without the hand of parental guidance, his mannerisms and emotions are still far younger than he actually is, something that Harry came to notice long ago, but he doesn't mind it as much now as he used to. Back in the days when they were fighting, he'd thought of Louis as nothing more than a childish brat, but a lot has changed since then, and he's grown rather fond of the other's quirky nature. Though the new rush of Pan's adolescent hormones has added a new layer to their 'friendship'.
None of the other lost boys have aged, none of them are going through puberty alongside Louis, and so none of them can understand the stirrings of arousal the young boy is beginning to feel, which is why he'd turned to the only person of a similar age he knew, Harry. Harry has gone through a range of emotions over this; at first he'd felt embarrassed, both for the poor boy and for himself, but Louis (or as he still demands Harry to call him, Peter) has never been taught to be embarrassed about sex or the human body, and he's so open about some things that it soon took that edge away. Next came the fondness that Harry now feels towards the boy; he'd begun to feel it as he started to teach Louis little things, such as how to make his erection go away. He'd been far more nervous than Louis in showing him such a thing, but it was worth it to see the relieved and pleasured expression on the other's face the first time he'd achieved an orgasm, pretty little lips forming a perfect 'o'. Hook hadn't even touched him, just given him general directions and witnessed the results.
That was when these stirrings had begun, the ones that now have his gaze slipping down to Louis' behind as they lounge together. He's supposed to be paying attention to the boy's rambling, hearing him chattering on about the new family he's been watching, Ever since the Wendy-ordeal, he's taken a liking to families with dogs, something Harry doesn't understand but as long as it keeps him this happy then he can't see the harm. This particular family have a puppy, and that, he realises, is what Louis is gushing over right now, but he's still too lost in the sordid depths of his mind to really register the information that's being passed on to him.
"I saw their parent's having sex," the word 'sex' sounds so foreign on the boy's tongue and it quickly has Harry being pulled from his reverie to pay attention. "You know I don't usually watch... But well, with everything you told me I just couldn't help being curious..." Louis' childlike curiosity would bring about the end of Neverland, the Captain was sure of it, but he refrained from commenting.
"It looked... Weird," Louis nose crinkles up at he says it, eyebrows cinching together, but his expression shows it wasn't necessarily a bad sort of weird, just very unusual in his mind. "Like, I don't think I'd ever do that with a girl..." Harry has had to restrain himself so many times from enlightening Louis and telling the poor boy that he's gay. He's hoping Louis will have the revelation all by himself, because he's made it clear many times that girls are 'gross', and Wendy is the only female he's ever brought back to Neverland, and even then he complained about her 'grossness' almost constantly. Tinkerbell seems to be the exception, but then again, she's a fairy so Hook isn't sure it counts, and he hasn't seen her around in ages -- she strongly disapproves of Peter and Hook spending time together, and goes off in a huff every time they do, though Harry isn't complaining because the little cow is annoying, frankly.
"I mean," Harry has zoned out a little, Louis' voice once again having to pull him back to reality. "They were kissing a lot, but not my kind of kissing," by that, he means the kiss goodnight that he gives to each of the lost boys at night, just like any big brother or parent would. "It sounded wet and... Weird." Again with the same expression, reminding Harry just how much of a child Louis can still be at times, though he has a warm smile on his lips as he watches him.
"It's what couples do, Lou-... Peter," he'd caught the look the younger had been giving him, and quickly corrected himself. "It's not meant for friends and family -- only people you feel sexually or romantically drawn to," he continues as though he'd never missed a beat.
Louis gives him a thoughtful look, going surprisingly quiet for him as he shifts a little in his seat. He's practically laying on Harry, head in his lap, though he's not sure how they've gravitated to this position because it certainly isn't how they started. In fact, when Louis first began to visit him on his ship, he'd refuse to even let his guard down enough to sit down at all, but the dynamics changed the first time he achieved climax under the Captain's watchful gaze because it had left Louis feeling vulnerable and a little startled, so the elder had held him close until he fell to sleep. Since then, he's found that no matter where he sits when the boy comes to visit, he almost always ends up with a lap full of Louis by the time the sun is setting. It's innocent though, in a way that serves only to drive Harry crazy, and it's become a bit of a routine that the moment the younger leaves, Harry has to make a mad dash to the shower, turn the water onto almost scalding temperatures and relieve himself the same way that he's taught Louis to do.
Louis is still looking pensively at the horizon through the cabin's window, though Harry highly doubts he's seeing anything; his eyes are almost glassed over, and when he next speaks he proves the Captain's suspicions.
"H-hook, what's it l-like?" The way his voice catches has Harry wondering whether he means kissing or sex, but for his own sake of sanity he's going with the former -- not that it won't be torture for him anyway because the idea of kissing Louis has crossed his mind far too many times.
"Magical, wondrous, all your dreams coming true," he fakes scattering pixie dust into the air, rolling his eyes playfully. His voice is always a low, deep bass, hoarse and mature, the opposite of Louis', so saying these words in such a childish tone sounds almost as out of place as when the younger talks about sex.
"Stop making fun of me," the younger huffs, his arms crossing in front of his small chest, pouty lip jutting out in a way that makes Harry want to lean over and nibble on it until blood makes it swell, suck it between his own and cherish the taste of Louis on his tongue. He's so tiny in comparison, such a small, petite frame that even in Harry's fantasies -- and there have been a few too many of those -- he knows he'd wreck the younger boy in bed.
“Sorry,” he gives a sheepish smile, hoping he sounds somewhat genuine. “I just… it’s not an easy thing to describe, Peter, and I’m not exactly an expert,” everyone, aside from his crew (and that’s just through fear) hates him, in Neverland. And they make a point of showing him that, so who exactly does Louis think he’s had the chance to kiss in… well, forever? He can’t remember what he was, before he wound up Captain Harry, and later, Captain Hook. Sometimes he wonders if he had been like Louis at the very beginning, but he’s built up this role of ‘villain’ through his loneliness and now there’s no one left that he can ask to find out. He guesses his previous life will remain a mystery, but at least he has company now.
“You said that about the other stuff, but you were a good teacher,” Louis’ innocent orbs are turned his way now, not even an embarrassed flush on his boyish cheeks because he really is just that naïve. “You could teach me this, too… you know, if you want.” There possibly isn’t as much emphasis on that last word as Harry hears there to be, but he wants very much and the way Louis has said it so bluntly makes him feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and he has to clear his throat awkwardly and look the other way to regain some composure.
“You realise that would mean we’d have to kiss? It’s not something that can be taught, so much as it’s something that has to be shown,” and if only the idea didn’t make his already tight bottoms feel just that little bit tighter. He looks down at Louis just in time to watch his eyes widen a little and then a small smile take residence on his plush lips, a slow nod following that makes Harry feel as though the air has been knocked from his lungs.
Louis sits up slowly from being sprawled on Harry’s lap, his gaze unwavering as he shifts a little closer and further on top of him until he’s straddling the elder’s long thighs and peering into his eyes with an innocence that makes Harry’s chest ache. He watches as Louis’ tongue darts out and wets his lower lip, unable to look away from how it glistens and knowing that if they carry on the way they’re going, he’ll soon be tasting that lip, be pressing his own against it, maybe even running his own tongue along it. The thought sends a shiver up his spine and he finds himself sitting up a little more as if in preparation of what’s to come.
“So…” the younger breathes and Harry can feel the warm air caressing his skin from how close their faces have drawn together – it’s sweet scented and alluring and Harry wants to breathe it in until it’s the only thing in his lungs, filling him up and becoming his life source the way he feels it deserves. “What… what comes next?” the question lingers between them, Harry’s mind making it seem so much deeper than it actually is. It’s supposed to be a physical question, not an emotional one and the thought is somewhat sobering.
The seconds feel like they’re infinities as they pass achingly slowly, Harry just staring into Louis’ hues before he eventually makes a move, tilting his head to the left as the younger mirrors his actions. They’ve both been leaning closer without even realising it, not sure which of them has been making up the distance, but now they’re so close their noses are almost touching and Harry’s heart beat is so fast he’s sure it’s unhealthy.
“This,” it’s an almost silent whisper, uttered from Harry’s lips by way of response to Louis’ question, but before either of them can even register what’s happening, he leans in and presses a tender kiss to the younger’s mouth. It’s small, fast, barely there, but it’s a kiss and it sends his stomach spiralling into a flutter of butterflies and mixed emotions. But what affects him more than anything is the reaction it earns from the other, the soft keening noise that escapes Louis’ chest and the gentle flush that follows and makes his sculpted cheeks glow. They both blink at each other for a long moment before their lips are pressed together again, neither knowing who initiated the kiss this time but it’s longer than the last, Harry’s lips beginning to move atop of Louis’ and guiding him into a real kiss. At some point, Louis’ arms have encircled his neck and are now pulling Harry’s face further down to his with a needy insistence, as if he’s scared that Hook will draw away, but the Captain has no intentions of breaking this kiss even if his ship begins to sink around them. He’s waited so very long for this, and now he has it he’s not letting it go for anything.
The elder leads the kiss, and as he parts his lips Louis is fast to follow suit, their teeth clashing awkwardly a few times, though neither seems to care. They’re lost in whatever little bubble they’ve formed around themselves, and there’s no coming back from this now, not as Harry licks into the other’s mouth and tastes his unbearably sweet flavour. He’s so lost to it all that his mind has no hopes of ever playing catch up, and as he watches Pan’s eyelids droop shut he can’t help but draw him ever closer.
When they finally draw apart, it’s so they can take deep and steadying breaths because the world is spinning and Harry’s chest is burning from lack of oxygen, heart hammering and lungs feeling like they’ve been drained entirely. He can’t blink the figure of the boy in front of him into focus, vision swimming far too much so he relents and lets his own eyes close shut too, resting their heads together for a moment as they collect their own thoughts together. Already he’s beginning to worry, the reality catching up with him far quicker than he’d hoped, but even that can’t taint how magical the kiss they’d just shared felt.
He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can Louis has moved forward and pressed their lips together once again, open mouthed and needy. The younger’s hands seem to be everywhere, gripping at Harry’s shirt as if he’s scared he’ll go away if he doesn’t keep a tight hold. Harry has no intentions of going anywhere, his own hands moving to grasp Louis’ hips and pull him closer, relishing in the soft noise it draws from Louis’ lips. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him – this is young, innocent Peter Pan, and he’s rocking himself up against him as though they’re lovers. And Louis isn’t complaining, in fact quite the opposite. He grinds his hips back against Harry’s in a way that makes the elder wonder how he got so experienced so fast, but it’s probably his lust for this boy that’s making everything seem so perfect.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he stands with Louis still wrapped around him, lips still crushing together as he carries them to his bedroom. The walls are wooden and the curtains a deep red which makes it somewhat dark, almost romantic – it’s the customary decoration for a pirate ship. He climbs onto the bed, kneeling upon it as he lays the younger onto his back and hovers his weight over him, resting between the other’s thighs and he feels a small thrill of shock as Louis hooks his legs around him and draws him in closer so that their groins are flush together, and Harry’s sure that Louis will feel his erection in his tight pants – he can certainly feel Louis’ in his tights.
“I-I… I s-saw parents d-doing this, too…” Louis is panting slightly, though Harry’s not sure that’s why his voice is wavering so much. “They… they were… n-naked…” he gasps softly into the elder’s mouth, skin flushing and eyes wide and bright with burning curiosity, and the elder then realises what he wants. He’s trying to tell Harry he wants them to be naked too, and the idea makes his cock twitch in, uncomfortably trapped in his clothing; yes, he’d definitely like to get naked right about now.
How did a simple kiss end up here? Or was this Louis’ plan all along? The idea warms his belly, trying to contain his pleased smile as he nods a little, letting the younger know he understands what he wants. He shifts his weight slightly, pulling off his layered tops until he’s shirtless, chest naked aside from a littering of tattoos and his necklaces. Louis’ eyes are wide, taking in every inch of Harry as the elder works on getting Pan’s shirt off. It only takes a few moments before Louis is working with him to help, tugging it off over his head as though the article of clothing is offensive. And this time it’s Harry’s turn to stare at the younger’s perfect, tanned skin and the way his chest is rising and falling – he’s the most beautiful sight that the elder has ever seen, and he’s seen a lot in his lifetime.
Next he wriggles his weight down, kneeling up once again and gripping the waist band of Louis’ tights. They fit like a second skin and leave nothing to the imagination, and Harry momentarily thinks it’s a terrible waste to take such amazing clothing off, until his mind catches up and he realises that taking them off means seeing the younger’s beautiful behind and his young, hardened cock. He looks up, catching sight of Louis’ heavy lidded eyes, swollen lips parted and cheeks tinted pink with a flush. He peels the tights off of Louis, eyes widening as he realises the boy doesn’t wear any underwear beneath the tight clothing, his erection stands proudly against the supple skin of his abdomen. Once he’s gotten the other entirely naked, he can’t resist dipping his head down and kissing a trail up along the underside of his cock, earning little whimpers from Louis who squirms somewhat shyly. Harry’s hands rest on the younger’s thighs, stroking them gently to soothe him and reassure him as he takes the same path along his shaft with his tongue this time. He licks his way up to the swollen head, trailing his tongue across it and this time when Louis squirms it’s from pleasure, evident by the desperate sounding moan that’s torn from deep in his chest.
“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmurs, pulling himself away just long enough to rid himself of the rest of his clothing so that they’re both naked, Louis’ eyes locked on the elder’s large manhood. As stunning as Louis looks, Harry has been having dreams of this for so long that he knows exactly what he wants, and that is to have his way with the younger’s curvy ass, to squeeze it, knead it, turn it red under his palm, bite it, taste it, lick it, be buried deep inside of it, and he wants it all so much that he can barely vocalise anymore. “Turn over,” his voice is low, deep and far more dominant than he meant for it to be, but Louis reacts almost instantly, his cock glistening with precome as he eagerly moves to fulfil the command.
“Just relax, okay? I’m going to make you feel good and show you what the adults do,” that gets him an eager nod from the younger who’s rolled over onto his belly, ass raised slightly up into the air. And it’s all that Harry dreamed it would be, and more. He groans, giving his own length a slow stroke to try and calm the arousal that’s making him throb almost painfully. His hands shake slightly as he reaches out, gripping the younger’s round behind and squeezing it softly, panting heavily as he tries to contain himself.
"Fuck, you look amazing like this," he growls softly, slowly caressing at his firm cheeks. His calloused, larger hands work at spreading the boy apart, hearing a small whimper from his lover as he leans in and begins nosing up along his inner thigh and towards his crease. He inhales his clean, musky scent as he reaches the puckered, pink entrance, unable to resist letting his tongue dart out and circle around it slowly, teasingly.
"Gods, Louis," he groans, the sweet taste tantalising his senses and making him crave more, white hot arousal now fuelling his every movement as he straightens his tongue and dares to push it in past the first tight ring of muscles. He can feel Louis clenching around it, such an unusual, intense feeling, so intimate that his own cock twitches once again, this time free of the tight clothing he’d previously worn.
Tentatively he begins to curl his tongue inside the young boy, coating his inner walls and slicking them up whilst also exploring the taste and feel of him. Drawing back just slightly, only the tip of his tongue remaining inside the keening male, he begins to suck softly upon his rim, giving it gentle tugs and moving his tongue in ways to find Louis’ prostate, knowing at once when he’s found it due to how his lover trembles, clearly not used to the sensation as his virgin hole is played with.
He continues to lick down towards Louis’ perineum, sucking gently upon the sensitive patch of skin as he uses one digit to tease at his hole, waiting to make sure he’s got permission and getting a sobbed ‘please’ from the younger, before finally pressing it inside of him slowly, tenderly. He’s still so tight, the heat engulfing his finger and causing him to moan against the younger’s flawlessly tanned flesh. He can’t wait to be inside of him, is desperate for it, but he has to make sure the other is fully stretched and ready first.
He begins moving his finger in and out of the boy, crooking it and forcefully dragging it up along his inner most walls, mercilessly stroking at the other’s sweet spot until he’s sure the boy’s legs are going to give out below him. He continues on until he knows the pleasure will mask the sting of adding a second digit, doing just that and scissoring them deep inside of him.
The attention of his mouth is directed to pressing loving, tender kisses up along the boy’s thighs, cheeks and sucking softly upon his balls, tongue darting out and tasting the younger’s sweetly perfumed skin every so often. He’s left a few marks upon his skin where he’s sucked just a little too hard or a little too long, but he’s heard no complaints and continues upon his explorations. Louis’ moans are driving him crazy, the younger boy trembling under his touch in a way that sets a fire burning in Harry’s veins, knowing he’s the cause, that he’s doing this to the boy he’s loved in secret for so very long.
He wants to make sure that Louis is entirely prepped, not wanting his first time to be filled with anything but pleasure, and he knows two fingers and a bit of saliva won’t be enough to accomplish that.
“Can you reach under the pillow for me? There’s a small bottle beneath it, I need you to pass it to me,” his voice is more gentle this time around, a request rather than an order and Louis gives a shaky nod, one hand slipping beneath the pillow like he’s been asked, but his legs can no longer support him and so he falls onto his belly, though it doesn’t appear to put either of them off in the slightest. Louis grasps the lubricant, unaware of what it is and hands it back toward the elder with a shaky hand. “Thank you, baby,” he doesn’t know where the petname has come from, but he likes it and Louis’ blush shows that he does too. He takes the small bottle, opening it and coating the two digits he’d had buried within the younger so they’re slick enough to slide back inside of him without any resistance at all. His twists his fingers a little, making sure to reach every inch he can so that Louis’ insides are lubed up and prepped.
“Are… are you sure about this? It isn’t too late to turn back...” Louis is shaking his head before Harry can even finish his sentence, his ass arching up into the air as if to invite Harry closer.
“Please… d-don’t stop,” he pleads, embarrassed by his own words because he isn’t used to talking about this sort of thing. “It f-feels g-good… more, p-please…” he’s begging for it in a way that has Harry feeling as though he’ll burst right there. He nods, not realising that Louis can’t see him because his mind is far too fogged by arousal. He uses a little more lubricant to slick himself up, stroking his length and moaning softly before positioning the head of his cock against Louis’ stretched entrance, still tight enough to cause a little resistance as he holds his breath and slowly pushes his hips forward and sinks his way into the wet heat of the younger’s core. He keeps moving forward until he’s in as deep as he dares to be, pausing there so that Louis can get accustomed to being so full.
Those few moments are filled with soft murmurs of reassurance and gentle kisses being pressed along Louis’ nape and down his spine as Harry stays kneeling behind him, as still as he can manage because he knows Louis is experiencing the initial burn and stretch of being filled for the first time. Soon, Louis is letting out quiet pleas for movement, making no attempts to move his own body because he’s unsure of what he’s doing, his body trembling just slightly with an aching need that he isn’t sure what to do with. The elder is quick to comply, though his movements stay slow and sensual as he begins to draw himself back out of Louis’ tight heat, causing a soft whimper to escape the younger’s lips, followed by a groan as Harry’s hips snapped forward just a little faster than the initial thrust, eyes widening as he realises what he’s done and waiting to see how Louis will react – he hadn’t meant to be so rough, he’d just been overwhelmed by pleasure. Louis seems to welcome the slight pain, hiccupping out a sob of pleasure as he once again begs for more.
Harry begins to pick up a steady rhythm that had them both breathless, Louis’ hands curling into fists and clawing slightly at the mattress beneath him. The same material is causing friction against his neglected length as each thrust from the elder shifts his own body forward slightly, leaving him desperate for more as he moans his pleasure as loudly as he dares, still a little shy, but he soon catches the sound of Harry mirroring his moans and forgets all about being bashful. Harry’s heels are digging into the bed beneath him as he attempts to get impossibly deeper, each thrust getting harder though he’s keeping a painfully slow pace to make the build-up far more intense, testing out what Louis likes and what was too much or just enough. Louis’ body begins to tremble each time Harry moves inside of him, brushing against his prostate so much that whimpers and moans fall in a continuous stream from him, broken only by the occasional sob. He gradually becomes less coherent, his noises like breathless sobs as he feels that somewhat familiar quickening in the pit of his stomach and the heat that pools there. Harry’s own sounds of pleasure have dropped an octave lower, more grunts and faint growls as he tries his best to keep from just fucking into the younger fast and hard to get them both off – he wants to keep this slow and tender because it’s Louis’ first time and he wants it to be memorable for all the right reasons, but it’s taking a considerable amount of self-restraint to do so, his own knees trying to buckle beneath him so much that he has to lock them and rely on the movement of his hips alone.
“O-oh… please… please…Harryharryharryharry...” it’s a chant, a dirty little prayer of Harry’s name, which almost makes the elder pause; Louis barely ever uses his real name, but he loves it when he does. The younger begins to rut his hips down against the blanket beneath him, all but humping at it to try and get that blissful feeling he needs. He’s looking utterly wrecked, hair sticking to his sweat-dampened neck and forehead, his skin flushed so pink it almost glows in the dim light. His eyes are glazed over and his jaw is slack between each panted word. He lets out an almost strangled cry when he feels one of Harry’s hands slip up into his hair and tug roughly – far rougher than either of them had expected, but the younger seems to quickly pick up on what the elder is trying to do and lets his body be lead until he’s kneeling too, his back pressed up against his lover’s chest. Harry can feel each and every ragged breath that leaves Louis’ lungs as the hot air of his own pants curl against the younger’s glistening skin, feeling the pounding of his own heart racing against the other’s shoulder as they begin to move together in unison. The elder picks up the pace as Louis experimentally bounces himself as best as he can onto his length. The hand still in Louis’ hair continues to tug until his neck is arched back almost painfully, head resting on the other’s shoulder as his throat and neck are attacked with kisses and love-bites. Another arm slips down around his waist until he can feel fingers brushing against his leaking erection, a cry leaving him at the fleeting touch. His own arms snake up around Harry’s neck behind him, holding them closer together as he begins to beg, plea for release with broken sounding sobs. He can’t take anymore, it’s too much and not enough all at once and his body feels like it was on fire.
“Come for me,” Harry growls the order against his ear, and suddenly the hand that had been merely teasing the younger’s cock is now firmly wrapped around it, fisting his girth roughly with a skilled thumb circling at the sensitive head. Harry hears Louis sputter, almost choking on the shout of a moan that is torn from him as hot spurts of his climax coat Harry’s hand, his own belly and partly the material beneath them. He’s clenching like a vice, shaking and whimpering as he spasmed from the intensity of his orgasm. Harry gives a final, deep thrust into him with an equally wrecked sounding groan, and Louis can feel the heat of his lover’s seed filling him to the brim.
They’re both panting heavily as Harry rolls off of the younger and lays beside him on the bed, Louis curling up to his side and using his head as a pillow. The elder leans down and kisses the top of his head, waiting until they’ve both come down from their high to try and form words – it had been the most intense orgasm of his life and he’s still reeling from it, body and mind trying to catch up with what he’s just experienced. He still feels as though he’ll wake up any moment now and it’ll all have been a blissful, cruel dream, but the feel of Louis in his arms is too real to be created by his own imagination.
By the time Harry’s caught his breath enough to speak, he looks down and a mix of emotions hit him all at once. Louis is fast asleep, eyes shut and skin still flushed from what they’d just done and breathing coming out slowly and evenly. Clearly he’s exhausted himself during his first time, and the emotion that wins out as Harry gazes at him is pure adoration. He’s breath-taking, especially with how soft and innocent looking he appears right now. Sighing softly, he nuzzles him, careful not to wake him and kisses him softly on his parted lips.
“I love you,” Harry whispers, heart aching at just how true those words are. He settles down then, laying with the boy who is now the very centre of his world and wraps him up into his arms, holding him close. “I love you, my little Peter Pan.”