Liam Payne is a man of simple pleasures, okay. He loves his girlfriend, his family, his job, his best friends, and his dogs. In fact, he loves most things about his life. He’s an easy to please kind of guy, and he doesn’t really get angry all that often. That doesn’t mean that he’ll take things lying down, though, or that he’ll let people walk over him. Liam’s not afraid of standing up for himself, and when it comes to Louis and the other lads pranking him, he’s not afraid to retaliate.
Except sometimes that backfires.
Like today, for instance. Louis and Zayn stole all his underwear the other day and hid them all over the hotel and made him search for it himself, with only a trail of clues they left, but the clues were the least helpful thing in existence. It took him a good few hours to find it all, and by that time, Liam was late to soundcheck.
So of course, Liam planned his retaliation prank. He went for a golden-oldie, the classic cover everything with post-it notes. It’s not particularly exciting, some would argue it’s even boring, but Liam likes his classic pranks, and well, they’re in Tokyo on tour right now so if he makes an absolute mess of the hotel room, it’s not fair to the staff who’ll have to clean it up.
He starts with Louis first, sneaks into his and Harry’s hotel room while they’re out getting dinner and sets his plastic bag on the floor. It’s stuffed full of various neon-coloured post-it notes, and Liam surveys them all, thinking what he should start with first. Should he cover Harry’s stuff as well? Harry’s stuff is essentially Louis’ stuff, so probably. Is it worth trying to get them into a pattern? Should he write something on some of the post-it notes?
He’s still mulling over these vital questions when the door handle rattles and something thuds against it from outside. Panicking, Liam grabs the shopping bag and rolls under the double bed so he’s right in the centre, the bag pushed above his head. There’s another thud, and then the door flies open, two men stumbling in.
Liam stares at their feet from under the bed and there’s no way it’s not Harry and Louis, the feet close enough together to suggest that they’re kissing and god that’s what the wet noises are. The slick slide of lips and tongue and fills the room, and it’s everything Liam doesn’t to think about Harry and Louis doing.
Except he can’t be caught in the middle of a prank. For one, Louis would never let him live it down. Liam will be on his deathbed and Louis will hobble over with no hair and a walking stick and croak about how Liam failed to prank him back in Tokyo, 2015. But also, Louis’ countering prank will be ten times worse and Liam doesn’t want to deal with that.
Shit. Shitting fucking hell.
The wet kissing noises are getting louder, the feet shuffling closer to the bed and -- oh God, that was a moan. That was a sex moan that was deep enough to be Harry’s and no, Liam cannot be here for this, he will not listen to his friends having sex.
The mattress jolts and Harry’s feet, clad in gold boots, are spread on the floor right in Liam’s eyeline. He’s probably sitting on the bed with Louis’ standing between his legs, and fuck’s sake, Louis’ taking off his shoes and he’s not wearing socks underneath; what is wrong with him? Even worse, they fucking smell and Liam can’t push them away because even though Louis’ climbing on to Harry’s lap (oh God) they’ll notice if a hand creeps out from underneath the bed to move their shoes.
“Been thinking about this all day, haven’t you, baby?” Louis croons, and buggering Christ, if Louis starts dirty talking Harry, Liam is going to cry. Already, he’s planning to visit a hypnotist to get this removed from his memory, he doesn’t need to add more fuel to the fire. “Wondering what I’m gonna do to you.”
Liam does not want to know what Louis will do to Harry, and he certainly doesn’t want to hear the resulting whine that comes from Harry as Louis speaks. He slips his phone out of his pocket, makes sure it’s on silent with no vibrate, and opens his messages to Sophia.
[17:09]: HELP MEEEEEEEEEE
[17:09]: tHEY’RE HAving SEXXXX
There’s more shuffling on the bed and the mattress dips lower, the bed slats creaking with the movement. The wet kisses are back in full force, both of them making gross sex noises this time, and Liam really didn’t need to know how high Louis’ voice gets when he and Harry snog.
Harry’s shoes come flying off the bed, knocking into the wardrobe, followed by a hoodie, a jacket, and one of Harry’s patterned shirts. They’re actually going to fuck while Liam’s hiding underneath their bed.
A text comes through from Sophia, interrupting his lament.
Liam swallows, a sharp grunt nearly causing him to drop his phone on his chest.
[17:15]: harry and louis!!!! prank went wrong!!! hiding under their bed and theyre having sex helpppppp
[17:15]: babe, just leave
Liam can’t though. He missed his window of opportunity when they climbed on to the bed. Now, if he crawls out, Harry and Louis’ will rightly wonder what the fuck he was doing under there so long in the first place (Liam’s wondering the same thing) and sure, it’s Harry and Louis so they may not be embarrassed, per se, they’ve all walked in on them over the years, but hearing the whole thing from start to finish without their consent is invasive and oh god Liam’s a terrible person.
[17:16]: I CaN’T YOU NEED TO HELP ME
[17:17]: how??? i’m at home!
Liam racks his brain for some kind of solution, but a loud, wanton, “Daddy, please!” stops all his thoughts dead.
Liam is too sober to be dealing with Daddy anything, let alone Harry calling Louis Daddy, oh God oh God.
“What’d you want, baby?” Louis murmurs, his voice clear and piercing, sadly not muffled by a damn thing. It carries a certain authority that’s sort of similar to how he talks during business meetings, the voice that means they’re taking no bullshit, but there’s a softness and just, something else in this voice, clearly only for Harry, that Liam has never heard before. Honestly, he was fine never hearing that version anyway. “Want my cock? My mouth? Wanna please Daddy, do you?”
“Wanna be good for you, Daddy,” Harry says, so earnestly Liam feels even worse about listening to this. “Please, wanna make you come.”
There’s a pause, like Louis is thinking something over, but there’s some noisy sucking sounds drifting through the air that makes Liam worried for what’s about to come. “How about I sit on your face, yeah? Ride you just how you like it, and maybe, if you’re good enough, I’ll suck you a bit too.”
Liam can only assume something breaks inside Harry then, because a thousand variants of fuck and please, Daddy and want to be good spill from his lips, and Liam tries to block that out, a little too focused on the thought of Louis sitting on Harry’s face, because that can’t be productive for sucking cock? Like, that angle has to be awkward, unless…
Oh God, Harry won’t be sucking Louis’ cock.
[17:23]: CALL ZAYN AND TELL HIM TO COME RESCUE ME PLEEEEEASEEEEE!!! THERE ARE TONGUES IN ARSEHOLES I’M TOO PURE FOR THISSSSS!!!
[17:23]: text him yourself!! you got yourself into this mess!!
Liam bites his knuckles, watching jeans and, shit, underwear flying across the room, listening to more shuffling on the bed above. This is not what he signed up to when he wanted to prank Louis, fucking hell.
“Ready, baby?” Louis asks, and Harry must nod, accompanying it with an eager moan. “Lick me out good then.”
If Harry was loud before, he’s got nothing on Louis. Objectively, Liam knew Louis was loud on the streets and in the sheets, but he did not need it confirmed like this. From, presumably, the first wet lick, he’s moaning and whispering filth to Harry and fuck, the mattress is trembling from him riding Harry’s face.
Liam needs to get out of here.
[17:26]: ZAYNIE MY LOVE COME RESCUE ME
[17:26]: H&L ARE HAVING SEX AND IM HIDING UNDER THEIR BED!!! PLEASE GET THEM OUT!!!1 I DON’T WANT TO DIEEEE
Zayn doesn’t text back for an agonising five minutes, and Liam feels a year taken off his life for every sound Louis makes. At some point, he probably does start sucking Harry’s cock, wet slurping noises coming from both ends, but Liam doesn’t want to think about that. He just pretends they’re...drinking tea messily, and playing very aggressive, sexual scrabble until the message comes through from Zayn.
[17:32]: in the hotel room??
[17:32]: YES!!! ZAYN PLEASE COME BEFORE THEY DO!!!!!
[17:33] on my way
“Fuck, baby, fuck, right there,” Louis groans, following it up with a breathy yelp. “Yes, fingers too, baby. So good for Daddy, making me feel so good.”
Harry answers with an exaggerated moan, deeper than normal, in contrast to Louis, who’s voice is getting more high-pitched, and then the worst thing so far happens. Liam goes to slide his phone back into his pocket, and he sees it. An erection. Liam is fucking hard.
Now that he’s noticed the tent in his jeans, not a full hard-on but a definite semi, he can’t stop staring at it. More blood rushes to his dick, and there’s nothing about this situation that should be sexy to him, except Louis and Harry are practically fucking pornstars with the noises they’re making, just with the added touch of being genuine sex noises because they’re really in love and when the fuck is Zayn getting here?
There’s three sharp raps to the door after another minute or so, and Liam thanks his lucky stars because this is going to be over in a few moments. Zayn will force Harry and Louis to go with him, and Liam can sneak out, bleach his brain, and never look at them again. They’ll all survive.
Except Louis and Harry don’t go to answer the door, even when the knocks come again.
“Probably just hotel staff,” Louis says, sounding absolutely wrecked with a rough voice that peters off into a high whine. “Keep going, baby, got me close.”
Fuck. Fuck them and their fucking sex drives.
Liam digs his phone out of his pocket and texts Zayn.
[17:42]: RING THEM PLEAE GET THEM OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!
It’s less than a moment, and Louis’ phone is blasting out the annoying ring tone he set for Zayn a while back. If Louis ignores the phone call, Liam is going to murder him when this is over.
Thankfully, Louis just curses and shuffles around on the bed to reach for his phone. It’s still ringing when he moves back to the centre and addresses Harry. “Keep going, yeah? Daddy doesn’t want you to stop, this’ll only take a minute.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Bro, kind of a --” Louis cuts of with a muffled whimper, then a confused grunt. “What the fuck do you mean Niall’s dead?”
Liam takes back every nice thing he’s said about Zayn. He just...of all the things that have happened today, he cannot believe that is what Zayn would choose to say to try and rescue Liam.
Louis scoffs. “I saw him -- ah -- like, an hour ago? Mate, you’re fucking with me. No, I don’t believe you. What? Jesus, fine, me and Haz will be there in ten. Now if you’ll excuse me, my boyfriend’s got his tongue in my arse.”
He must hang up because the phone gets chucked on the floor then, and Harry makes the loudest, neediest moan yet. They go back to doing whatever they were, Louis sucking Harry’s cock while...riding Harry’s face, and Liam just closes his eyes and tries to think of awful things to make his erection go away.
Nothing works. Both Louis and Harry are far too loud for Liam to actually concentrate on anything else but them.
Still, that means it’s obvious when they come, fifteen minutes later, because Louis’ time management skills are as shitey as ever. Louis draws in a deep breath and wails, a sound that will haunt Liam for the rest of his life, and Harry practically screams Daddy.
It’s over, thank God.
They keep moving on the bed for a bit, Louis whispering soft things to Harry too quietly for Liam to hear, checking if he’s okay to leave or if they need to stay and cuddle for a while (he says no, thank God) and then they’re plodding off to the bathroom to clean up, redressing, and are out of the room.
Liam lets out a long sigh and looks at his phone again. Ten past six. He’s been here for around an hour. They managed to have sex for more or less, an entire hour, Jesus Christ, if Liam didn’t want to forget about this whole experience he’d probably congratulate them.
As it is, the room’s empty now, so Liam bolts. He shimmies out from under the bed, grabs the bag of post-it notes and flees from the room to his own, across the corridor. Safe at last.