"Are you gonna be good for me?" Louis asks, stroking Harry's cheek tenderly, just a brush of fingertips to cheekbone.
Harry's eyelashes flutter. "Uh huh," he murmurs, giving a little nod and watching as Louis smiles in response.
"Uh huh? Will I still be able to feel you tomorrow?" Louis asks, his voice sweet, and Harry nods again, right away. "Are you gonna make it so I'm aching for hours, so I can hardly even walk?" Louis ducks in, nipping at Harry's ear with his teeth, and the combination of that and his dirty words makes Harry squirm.
"Yeah," Harry says, grinning when Louis laughs, his warm breath tickly.
Louis reaches for the lube, drizzles some into his cupped palm and reaches down to smooth it over the length of Harry's cock. It's a perfunctory gesture, he rarely lets Harry have his hand or his mouth before they fuck. He wants Harry to be overwhelmed by the tightness of his arse, to go from nothing to sudden slick tight heat. He doesn't want to warm him up.
Even so, the quick once-over of Louis's hand on his dick makes Harry's body jolt. The friction is so good when he's been achingly hard for what feels like forever, lying still beside Louis and obediently not touching himself as he watched Louis get himself ready, fucking himself with three fingers until he was writhing and Harry was desperate to feel what those fingers were feeling. Louis smirks at the little whimper Harry lets out as his hand leaves him, the way his hips instinctively buck up for more.
"Don't worry, babe," he whispers, smiling sweetly as he strokes just one finger up the shaft of Harry's cock and watches it jump. "I'm gonna give you something better, yeah?"
Harry nods, looking pleadingly into Louis's eyes. "Yeah, much better," he says, and then before he can help it, a "please, Lou," tumbles out right after.
Louis grins, tilting his head to the side like he's having second thoughts, and Harry knows it's just because Louis wants to hear his frustrated little whine. Louis relents, shifting, throwing a leg over Harry's midriff, and Harry's heart rate speeds up instantly with anticipation. Louis eases himself up, so he's straddling him, careful to avoid Harry's cock until he's settled where he wants to be, knees either side of Harry's waist. He has to reach behind himself, guide Harry's cock in, and the grip of his fingers round the base as the head is pressed between the cheeks of Louis's arse makes Harry groan and squirm, impatient.
"Hey," says Louis sharply, taking Harry by the face with his other hand, and this time it's not gentle; he holds Harry's jaw firmly, forces eye contact. "Said you were gonna be good for me. So stay still."
Harry nods right away, as much as he can, blurting out apologies. It's hard to think when he can feel Louis's skin against his like that, and the promise of more. Louis nudges down just a little further and Harry feels a flutter of muscle against the very tip of his cock and so much heat and pressure that he feels dizzy.
Louis sinks down slow, and Harry's enveloped inch by inch, tight heat pulling him right in, and he's gasping, trying to keep still, fighting the urge to just thrust his hips up. Louis has his head tipped back, and Harry focuses on the length of his throat, the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows and the cut of his jaw. He always looks so good when he's taking Harry's cock, flushed right down to his chest, face tight with concentration.
Finally Harry is all the way inside, Louis's arse nestled against his lap, and he trembles with the effort of keeping still, feeling the hot press all around his cock. Louis's hands settle on Harry's chest as he rolls his hips, letting out a breathy moan.
"Fuck," he says, voice shaky. He drops his head, looking at Harry's face again. "Yeah, babe. So big, aren't you? Feel fucking huge inside me."
Harry can't speak, can only bite his lip and gaze up at him.
"You stretch me so wide, yeah? And I can feel you so deep." Louis brushes a hand over his tummy, the slight swell of it, and Harry sort of whimpers at that. "You want me to move?"
"Uh huh." Harry's voice sounds strained, and Louis smiles, almost triumphant.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck myself on your cock?"
"Please, Lou," Harry begs, voice cracking, "pleasepleaseplease."
Louis churns his hips again, a tight little circle, Harry's cock shifting inside him, and Harry whines again desperately.
"You could just fuck me," says Louis almost conversationally. He's moving at a leisurely sort of pace, just gently rocking back and forth now, tiny movements that drive Harry mad. "Could just grab hold of me, make me bounce on your dick like you want. But you're not gonna do that, are you?"
Harry shakes his head, pulling at the sheets 'til he's got fabric clasped tight in his fists.
Louis shakes his head too, echoing the movement. "No, you're not. You're gonna wait, aren't you? 'Til I'm ready."
Harry's response is wordless, more of a sort of weak sound of agreement, but he means it. He's going crazy fighting his body's urge to move, but in his mind he knows he doesn't want to, he wants this, wants to have to lie here helpless until Louis decides he's teased him enough.
And thankfully Louis doesn't drag it out much longer; Harry knows it's hard for him, too, making himself wait. He pulls up, steadying himself with his hands splayed out on Harry's chest, and then pushes back down on him, and Harry gasps and nods and grips the sheets even tighter. Louis eases up again, almost all the way off, and then quits messing about and starts riding Harry properly, fingernails digging into his chest as he works himself up and down.
He moans, and all Harry can do is watch him, staring at the place where their bodies meet, catching glimpses of his own cock disappearing inside of Louis. He drags his eyes up to the weight of Louis's balls, heavy and full, and the stiff shaft of his cock slapping against his belly as he moves. Louis's chest is reddened and his biceps are thick and tensing as he holds himself up, and when Harry reaches his face he sees Louis's watching him too, grinning wickedly and out of breath as he slams himself down on Harry's cock over and over.
Harry moans openly as Louis picks up the pace, and Louis shakes his head at him, making a breathless sort of tutting sound. "Walls are thin here, remember?" he says, and then suddenly one of his hands is clamped down over Harry's mouth, palm sweaty and firm and shutting Harry up.
Harry lets out a huff of breath through his nose, twisting helplessly under Louis as Louis keeps it up, rocking back and forth now and keeping Harry deep, so Harry can feel him all around. It's so good he's gone lightheaded and he has to remind himself to keep breathing, Louis's hand ensuring that he can't use his mouth for that—or for anything else.
"Do you want to touch me?" Louis asks, slowing down, going maddeningly slow again and smirking.
Harry nods frantically, makes pathetic sounds into Louis's hot palm, trying to speak though it all comes out muffled and incomprehensible. Louis takes pity on him and removes his hand, and Harry sucks in a breath so fast he almost chokes on it. Louis murmurs something, maybe there, there, and soothes a hand through his hair, fingers teasing the damp curls.
"Please Lou, yeah," Harry gets out, "please."
Louis just quirks an eyebrow, still gently bucking in Harry's lap, riding his cock all lazy as he twines his fingers in Harry's hair, just playing with it. Playing with him.
"I wanna touch you," Harry pleads, "please let me."
"Hmm," says Louis, contemplating. He tugs gently at Harry's hair now, wrapping the curls around his fingers and pulling just a little so Harry's head is jerked to the side. Then he yanks harder, hard enough that Harry cries out at the sharp pain in his scalp and his head is pulled right up off the pillow an inch or so. But he takes it, staring into Louis's eyes, his own beginning to water as he waits it out for the few seconds Louis keeps him there before letting go. Harry's head drops back down onto the pillow and Louis says, "Okay," softly, grinning, "now you can touch me."
Harry releases the sheets from his grip and his hands ache from being clenched into fists for so long, almost cramping. He can't decide which part of Louis's body he most wants to touch, and his greedy hands go to Louis's arse first, fingers squeezing and kneading gently at the hot flesh and brushing between so he can feel where he's inside, where Louis is stretched around him. He's clumsy then, wanting to touch everywhere—fitting his fingers into the dimples in Louis's lower back, clutching Louis's biceps and feeling the strength of them, the muscle flexing beneath the skin. He clings to Louis's soft waist, his hips, and then he finally gets to his cock, so hard it's dripping. Louis can go so long without touching it when he's got Harry inside him, Harry wonders if he could even come like that, just from Harry's dick—but right now Harry just wants to feel it in his hand, the pulse of it, the precome getting his fingers sticky.
Louis moans quietly as soon as Harry wraps a fist around it, starts riding him quicker, so Harry's hand is sliding over him messily, losing rhythm. His thighs tremble a little and his eyes squeeze shut, and Harry feels him tighten around his cock, sudden and harsh and so good that Harry forgets himself for a second, goes still. Louis gets it together quickly, pushing Harry's hand away.
"No, stop, don't wanna come yet," he pants out.
He repositions, swiveling round and getting Harry's cock in deep again, and Harry's faced with a back view, Louis seated in his lap, his gorgeous arse round and full.
"Love the way you look like this, babe," Louis breathes, like he's voicing Harry's thoughts. He grasps Harry's knees, lifts himself up and sinks back down slow like he's savouring the feel of Harry opening him up. "Love your long legs. Your thighs, fuck. Wanna see your toes curl."
It doesn't take much—the change of angle is good, so good, when Louis starts moving again, his arse bouncing and his heels digging into Harry's waist. When he leans further forward, Harry can see himself sliding in and out, his cock splitting Louis open and Louis fucking himself on it fast, riding the thick length inside of him. Louis hitches his hips up, stretches out beautifully along Harry's body, his back arched, and Harry grabs at him again just to hold on, thumbs pressed into soft skin.
He can feel something curling in the base of his spine, and he knows it's too soon, knows it's hardly even worth asking, but—"Lou, I'm—I feel like I'm gonna come."
"Well, don't," Louis says simply, tossing his head back and grinding down against Harry, slowing down again and Harry feels the ache get a little more distant. "I'm not done with you yet."
He turns back around and Harry's struck by how graceful he is, the way he moves with Harry's cock inside him like it's just—like it's meant to be there. The thought makes Harry feel that twist like he's close again and he tries to fight it off, but Louis is—god, Louis, his eyes wicked and his mouth curling into a smile, and that relentless slick heat of his arse around Harry's cock.
Harry hears himself chanting Louis's name, over and over, pleading with him to let him come, and Louis shakes his head at first then grows exasperated, suddenly grabs Harry by the neck. Harry's words die out instantly. Louis's grip isn't tight, but there's enough pressure to make Harry feel a little bubble of something in his chest between excitement and fear, Louis's thumb pressing gently into the hollow of his throat and making him gulp.
"No," Louis says firmly. "Not 'til I do. 'Cause this isn't about you, is it? This about me getting myself off on your cock, isn't it, that's what you want."
Harry nods, and the movement makes the pressure on his throat increase and he feels dazed from it, staring up into Louis's eyes and forgetting about his own orgasm entirely. "Yeah," he says, voice barely there.
Louis lets up a little, just laying his hand lightly over Harry's neck, with the unspoken assurance that he could tighten it at any moment. "Yeah," he echoes teasingly. "It's about me using you for my own pleasure, because that's what you like, isn't it Harry? You like being used, yeah?"
Harry sort of gasps, and it's the only thing he can do besides nod.
"Maybe I'll just use your dick 'til I'm satisfied and I won't let you come at all," Louis taunts, but Harry can tell he's losing his composure, his voice getting weaker and his rhythm more frantic like he can't really help himself, like he's just riding himself ever closer.
Harry reaches out to hold onto Louis's thighs and Louis grabs at his hands, forcing them back and pinning them to the bed. He's lost his words, though, which Harry knows must mean he's right on the edge, and Harry just tries to focus on not coming until Louis's brought himself there.
Louis's still not touching his cock, just letting it rub against Harry's stomach, his abs, leaving Harry's skin shining with precome. The friction is apparently enough, because suddenly he's coming, swearing and digging his fingernails into Harry's wrists and shooting hot stripes over Harry's torso. Harry has to try really hard not to come then, when he feels the shuddering pulse around his cock. He bites his lip through it, watches as Louis comes down, listens to the way his breathing's gone all erratic. There's a look of something like surrender on his face, all peace and bliss like his mind's gone blank for once, and his grip on Harry's wrists slowly lets up, his limbs going looser. He looks beautiful, his features soft and his mouth slack.
He laughs after, like he always does, exhilarated from orgasm, and slowly starts to pick up the pace again, heaving his hips up and bringing them back down, keeping Harry's cock sliding inside of him even though he's so oversensitised from just coming.
"So good," Louis murmurs, his voice all rough, sounding worn out, "your cock always makes me come so hard. Look at that."
His hand goes to Harry's stomach and Harry's eyes follow it, looking at the splashes of white painting his skin. Louis slides a finger through the mess he's left, trailing it up to Harry's chest and collecting come on his fingertip, and Harry finds that his mouth is wet and open with anticipation, waiting for it. Louis just smirks at him and rubs his finger all over Harry's lips, making them glisten, before sweeping his whole palm through the slickness on Harry's torso and bringing it up to Harry's mouth. Harry whimpers embarrassingly, sticking his tongue right out for it, not even caring how desperate he looks, and Louis gives it to him, lets Harry lick it all off.
He keeps on riding Harry, clenching around him, and the combination of the tight squeeze of Louis's arse and the taste of his come makes Harry feel like something inside him is about to explode. Louis shoves two fingers into his mouth and Harry sucks on them almost gratefully, messy and noisy. He's vaguely aware that he's got spit and come dribbling down his chin and it should be fucking humiliating but Louis's murmuring to him about how gorgeous he looks, how good he is at getting Louis off, how he can come now because he deserves it, he can fill Louis up because he's been a good boy—
—and Harry comes, brain almost shutting right down as he does, orgasm coursing through him like a wave that pulls him right under with the intent to drown. When it lets him back up for air his head feels foggy and he's trembling, and Louis is petting at him.
"Hi," says Louis softly, stroking damp fingers across Harry's cheek.
Harry nuzzles into the touch, blinking dazedly. "Hi," he manages, voice gravelly.
"You nearly bit my fingers off, you little menace," Louis says fondly, and Harry has a vague recollection of clamping down with his teeth when Louis waves his hand in front of his eyes to show the indentations in the skin.
"Sorry," says Harry, though he's not, terribly, because the marks look deep enough to last until tomorrow and it's always nice when they leave something on each other, especially when they're in front of cameras and crowds all day and they need a reminder of what goes on behind closed doors. Louis doesn't seem all that bothered either, probably for the same reason.
"You okay?" he asks, pushing Harry's sweaty fringe back from his forehead. He still hasn't moved from Harry's lap, always likes to keep Harry's cock inside him for as long as possible, and Harry's not quite soft yet.
"Yeah. I love you." Harry says it half through a yawn, and Louis chuckles at him.
"I love you too." He straightens up, climbing off Harry with a sort of sigh, and then rests a gentle hand on Harry's stomach. "All right if I leave you for a minute to go clean up?"
"Uh huh," Harry says, because he kind of likes to watch Louis go, to see the way his knees buckle once his feet hit the floor, every time without fail. "If you bring me a flannel."
Louis leans down and presses a kiss to Harry's chest, right over his heart. "Demanding," he tuts, grinning.
Harry smiles sleepily back at him. "Hmm. Look who's talking."