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They don’t have enough time for proper sex, or maybe it’s that they don’t have anything to use for lube, Louis can’t really think with Frank whispering dirty Janet Jackson lyrics low in his ear like he is. The greenroom is blissfully empty at the moment - Tyler had said he’d be back in a few minutes with but Louis really, really doesn’t want Frank’s right hand to stop traveling south. As it is his fingertips are digging into the soft flesh of Louis’s middle, pulling Louis back into his chest, their hips lining up.

Louis’s working on a slow grind, trying to find the rhythm in Frank’s hot lips against his neck; he can’t stop thinking about the playlist he made of all the songs he wants Frank to fuck him to. There’s a hysterical giggle building in the back of his throat that he tries to focus on pushing back down.

(It started the last time Louis’d met Frank on tour and mentioned liking the Kendrick Lamar song that was playing off Syd’s computer. Syd had laughed at him and patted his head before winking and wandering off the bus, leaving Louis to avoid Frank’s gaze. He’d never admit it, but Louis knew Frank had knelt down and spread Louis’s thighs to make Louis’s embarrassed blush spread darker. good kid, m.A.A.d city had kept playing, the Janet sample stuttering when Louis blindly gripped at the table’s edge as he came.)

Louis blinks and scrambles to bite at Frank’s fingers playing with the neckline of his shirt. “Can you- fuck, Frank. Can you do something already?” Frank’s answering chuckle is cut short as he gets his hand in Louis’s joggers, palming Louis’s dick through his briefs so that Louis lets out a breathy little moan.

“What do you want, boo?” Frank has them backed up against the wall, tangling their legs a little in his effort to lean back and press their hips closer together. Instead of answering, Louis pushes his pants down, and, without turning around, uses one hand to spread his ass cheeks, his back arched just enough and standing on his toes so that he fits directly into Frank’s growing erection.

“Get your dick out, I’ve an idea.” He shoots Frank a teasing grin over his shoulder, slides one dry finger over his own hole while Frank’s struggles with his own zipper. Before Frank can push his pants down enough to stop the metal teeth from digging into their skin where they’re pressed together, Louis has already spit into his palm and is stroking Frank’s dick, wrist twisting a bit from the odd angle. “Between the cheeks, yeah? I’ll hold ‘em open.”

In answer, Frank bites the back of Louis’s neck and shuffles them around until Louis is pressed flush against the wall, jaw digging into rough plaster while both arms stretch behind him, one hand spreading his ass cheeks and the other pressing Frank’s cock between them. It’s still a little dry, not quite tight enough to create the best rhythm, but neither of them seem to mind, especially when the crown of Frank’s cock rubs over Louis’s hole, catching a bit from the friction, causing him to clench and gasp, his free hand going to clutch at Frank’s on his hip. Linking their fingers, Frank digs his nails into the thin skin there and pulls Louis closer, bending them forward so Louis’s face scrapes against the wall with every thrust. Arching his back even further, Louis shifts his hips in shallow, sharp upward movements while Frank grinds down, rolling his hips.

Louis feels absolutely wrecked before Frank grunts into his neck, “touch yourself for me.” But Louis does anyway, licking his palm and pulling his prick in one smooth tug from the base to tip. He wants Frank to hear how good he’s being since Frank can’t see the way his cock sits heavy and pink in his own hand, so he moans, open-mouthed and wet, and rubs a thumb over the slit, hissing and bucking his hips. Frank hums, a strained sound, whispers “good boy” low and slow in Louis’s ear before dragging his lips over and biting at the juncture between Louis’s neck and shoulder.

The praise has Louis working himself faster, almost desperate, keeping his hand circled tight so the calluses on his thumb and index fingers feel almost like sandpaper. He can feel Frank start to lose it a little, the beads of precome dripping over the tight ring of muscle at his hole, making him itch and clench, wishing for more blunt pressure, something. It’s filthy, and there’s an ache low in his belly that he can feel tingling down to his toes. He scrapes his cheek against the wall as he turns his head to moan, “‘m gonna, fuck Frank,” before coming over his own fist.

He only has a moment to breathe before Frank pushes him again so he’s fully bent at the waist, the angle forcing him to use his forearms to brace himself against the wall. “Come on, then, big boy,” he says over his shoulder, breathless but smirking. He makes a show of licking his fingers clean, elbow digging into the wall where his hand’s pulled in. Frank falls back a step, wraps one hand at the base of his cock and uses the other to slap one of Louis’s ass cheeks, his long fingers splayed wide.

“Look good like this, Lou. Pretty and pink without me even opening you up.” He’s stroking himself, quick tugs while he teases Louis’s hole with one finger, rubbing small circles. “I’m gonna come on you, now. Is that okay, baby?” He’s mocking, but his voice is thick, gentle, like he’s coaxing them both to the edge of a precipice. It sends shivers down Louis’s spine.

“Y-yeah, all right,” he replies, the last part coming out in a whine as he tries to push back into Frank’s fingers. A moment later Frank inhales sharply through his bared teeth and Louis can feel hot streaks of come splash against his ass, like a brand. Frank slumps against him for a moment - Louis listens to the weird irregular beating of their hearts pressed back to front - before straightening out and pushing them both into a standing position, turning to face each other.

“I hate Tyler,” he says conversationally, breaking the silence.

Frank stares blankly at him. “Did he call you Kim again?” he asks, confused. His pupils are still dilated, but otherwise he looks like he’s just woken up, all soft and pliable and warm.

“We agreed that wouldn’t be brought up. Ever,” Louis says darkly, “but he is the reason we’re here at this venue instead of at home. I rather wanted you to fuck me tonight.” He pouts a little, runs a finger through the sticky mess slowly sliding over his backside and down his thighs.

Frank throws his head back and laughs, keeps laughing as he zips his pants and grabs some tissues to clean Louis up with. It makes Louis’s pout turn into a scowl. “Well it’s true,” he says, knowing full well he's being petty.

Frank’s still smiling as he wipes over Louis’s ass, squeezing a little. “Dance side stage for me later and maybe I will.”