"Hey! Hello! Hey, mate, do you have a minute? I'm talking to you with the backpack, mate."
Louis looks over his shoulder at the sound, to the van coming to a slow beside him, matching his pace. There's a lad with his head stuck out the passenger window, nodding with his short brown hair flopping a bit over his forehead. "Yeah, hello," Louis says, nodding back with a smile, and steps a bit inward away from the pavement.
"I got a question for you, mate," the lad says. "You wanna make a quick fifty quid?"
Louis laughs, glancing around for other passers by, then peers farther into the van to see if anyone's with the boy. There's another lad behind him, filming out the window with a camera held over his shoulder. He squints, blond hair falling into the eye he has fixed on the viewscreen. "Uh," Louis says, "what-- yeah, that's all right, is there a catch somewhere?"
"Not at all," the lad tells him. "We have this survey we're sort of trying to complete," he suddenly holds up a clipboard, gesturing. "Human interactions and, like, sexuality, some sort of nonsense like that." He shrugs, a bit apologetic. "It can get quite personal, but it's very rigorous, you know. We even have to film it," he jerks his thumb backwards at the blond lad, "so our lecturer knows we've got everybody's consent and everything."
"Oh, that's," Louis cringes a bit. He's not really in for a big survey. "I've sort of really," he looks at his wrist and immediately feels like a twat because he's not wearing a watch. "I was sort of on my way to--"
"Can we just ask you the one question?" he lad says hurriedly. "One thing, fifty quid, that's it, mate. Listen, I'm Liam, if that helps." He sticks his hand out of the window.
"Hi, I'm Louis," Louis says, and shakes his hand. "Yeah, go," he adds, shrugging his backpack off and setting it down beside him.
"We'll give you fifty pounds," Liam says, "if you take your shirt off."
Louis raises his eyebrows at him, polite smile turning into one of disbelief. "Just take my shirt off?" he repeats. It's pretty easy, as far as dares go. He's done worse for free.
"Yeah, that's all," Liam says, and holds up the bank note. "It's yours."
Louis glances around again and shrugs, taking his hoodie off and dropping it on the backpack, then pulls the hem of his t-shirt up and over his head, turning it inside out. He holds out his arms for appraisal, shirt clutched in his right hand, and Liam's face lights up.
"Sick," Liam proclaims, and holds the note out the window for Louis to take, pressing it into his hand. "Nice, that was great, thanks."
"No, thank you mate," Louis laughs, and bends down to pick up his backpack and hoodie as he pushes the note into the pocket of his trackies.
"We could give you a ride, you know," Liam offers. "Wherever you're going, we can take you there, if you want. There's more in it for you," and now he waves another set of notes in his hand, "if you like."
"What," Louis grins, "you'll want me to take off my trackies as well?"
Liam sticks out his bottom lip and gives Louis big sad brown eyes, looking absurdly childish. "It's just some questions," he says. "You can always say no."
Louis rolls his eyes. "I was going to take the bus to the Sainsbury's for some shopping," by way of accepting the offer.
"Well, what do you know," Liam smiles. "It just happens to be on our way. This is Niall, by the way," he says, indicating the blond cameraman as Louis climbs into the back of the van next to him.
"Hello," Louis says, and Niall claps him on the shoulder. There's a third lad, dark curling hair swooped over his forehead, sat on the opposite end of the van. "Louis," Louis says to him, extending his hand.
"I'm Harry," dark and curly tells him in a deep voice when he shakes it, giving him a small smile that makes his cheeks dimple.
"What's your part in all this?" Louis asks him. "Data collection?"
"You could say that," Harry says. "I'm a bit of an impartial observer." He gestures broadly. "I get a feel for the room, make sure everybody's comfortable and things don't get awkward."
"Top lad," Louis tells him, and sits across from him with Liam.
"So," Harry says thoughtfully. "Yorkshire lad, is it?"
"It is," Louis says brightly, more relaxed already. He'd had a bit of trouble placing Liam's accent. "I'm from Doncaster. How about you?"
"Holmes Chapel in Cheshire," Harry says. "Zayn," he calls past Louis' shoulder. "You hear that? Another one of your Yorkshire boys!"
"That's sick," the driver of the van calls back, without taking his eyes off the road.
"Zayn's from Bradford," Liam tells Louis, nudging him with his shoulder, "and I'm from Wolverhampton, and Niall's the silent from Ireland."
"Fuck off," Niall says, not unkindly, from behind the camera. "I'm not silent. I just don't want to fuck up the film with my voice all over it."
"We all go to the uni," Liam continues, "as I'm sure you do, judging from the backpack?"
"Correct," Louis nods. "I'm studying drama."
"Drama!" Liam says, and exchanges glances with Niall and then Harry. "That's amazing. This could be interesting. Niall, you'd better give our Louis good angles, since he's been so kind as to agree to answer our questions." Niall gives them the thumbs up, and Louis laughs again. They really are very good at putting him at ease; the atmosphere inside the van feels like an intimate party, with plenty of space between the rows of seats and the lingering smell of pot in the air. Louis wonders for a moment whether he can ask for a joint, but then he thinks of Niall's camera and their lecturer who might frown on such a display.
"Well, let's get comfy in here," Liam says, indicating that Louis should move even closer to him, until they're pressed up against each other on the seat. "Shall we get started on the questions?"
"Go ahead," Louis says.
"Do you identify as," Liam reads from his clipboard, "straight, gay, bisexual, asexual, or somewhere else on the spectrum?"
"I am straight," Louis tells him, and Liam circles something on the sheet, but Harry interjects.
"So are you familiar with the Kinsey Scale?" he asks Louis, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
Louis shrugs. "I'm familiar with it," he answers honestly, "but I'm not exactly clear on what the grades are."
"The grades aren't important," Liam says, mock whispering close to Louis' ear. "He just wants to know if you're saying you're straight because you've never been with a man, or if it's because you've never wanted to be with a man, or if it's because you've just never had the chance to be with a man."
"Oh," Louis frowns. "I've, um. Never really thought about it that much, I suppose."
"That's fair enough," Liam declares brusquely, marking something else off on his sheet. "You go to parties round here? Out to the clubs?"
"A bit of both," Louis grins. "A fair bit of both, if I'm honest."
"Do you have a preference?" Liam asks.
"I suppose I prefer parties," Louis says thoughtfully. "Like, even with the big ones, in dormitories or whatever, they're still more intimate? Like, you can always get away to a corner, no matter where you are, for a conversation. And, like, there's no negotiating on cab fare if you want to get out of there, or you don't have to worry about losing your cover fee if you're ready to leave in a half hour."
"All good points," Liam agrees, writing something down. "You, er, do you leave with people a lot, when you go to parties?" he asks softly. "Or do you find a corner more often?"
Louis smiles, but he feels his face heat up with more than one memory. "I reckon we might take something that started in a corner and then leave to finish it elsewhere."
"You ever finish in a corner?" Liam says, leaning even closer, and Louis shakes his head.
"Nah," he laughs. "That's a bit... nobody needs to see that," he says.
"Well, isn't that the point, Louis?" Liam says, slinging his free arm around Louis' shoulders in a friendly gesture. "Nobody's meant to see. It's in a dark corner, or a corridor somewhere. You're with a lovely bird, hand up her shirt, bit of a stiffy against her stomach, yeah? Who's gonna look over if you get your hand in her knickers at that point?"
Louis lets his gaze flick up to the camera Niall has pointed at them, then over to Harry, who's watching with almost clinical interest, before glancing down, growing warmer in the van and under Liam's arm. He's come closer to that scenario than Liam could know. "It's not... like, maybe not that," he allows, "but any other way. It's not exactly polite to flash my willy out at everyone."
"Mate," Liam tells him knowingly, hugging him close, "if anyone can see your willy, you're doing it wrong."
"But if someone did," Louis insists.
"What if they did?" Harry asks. "Would you be-- angry? Would you be sad?"
"I would--" Louis begins. "I don't think it would be very nice for the girl I was with."
"What if she liked it?" Harry asks him, and Liam nods, pulling back enough to look Louis in the eye.
"Yeah, exactly," Liam says. "What if the girl you were with liked it, if she said she wanted it, flipped her skirt up and she had no knickers on and just said to go for it."
"Jesus," Louis breathes out on a laugh, and he slouches a bit, feeling his cock start to thicken in his pants.
"You'd like it then, wouldn't you," Liam says, squeezing Louis' shoulder and resisting the slight attempt he makes to pull away. "Fucking some girl up against a wall with her legs wrapped all round you, thinking like anyone could look over and they'd think maybe you were just in it for a bit of a grind, yeah? Are you getting hard, Louis?"
The question is sudden, couched at the end of a litany of images that are rushing through Louis' brain, and yet the right response, Louis knows in an instant, is to immediately deny, or at least acknowledge the subject matter. Instead he blinks down at himself to see if it's obvious; the line of his dick is subtle, still soft enough to lay sideways in the bulge of his trackies. "A bit, yeah," he admits.
"Yeah, it looks like it," Liam says, looking unabashedly down into Louis' lap. His lips are parted and his lower lip, bitten, is full and wet. "Me too, Louis," he says, "look," and Louis drags his gaze across his thighs to Liam's own jeans, his trousers tented up, low waist clearly stretched across the line in his pants. "You getting a good shot of this, Nialler?"
Louis' eyes snap wide open and it's an effort not to stare up at Niall, having forgotten in the moment that they're being filmed and now, that there's a camera being panned in across his crotch; there's no hiding his erection now, a ridge nearly straight up and pressing against the seam of his trackies. "Is this--" he clears his throat, hearing his voice go a bit raw-- "about, like, exhibitionism, or--"
"Yeah, mate, it's like that," Liam tells him soothingly, stroking his shoulder. "Bet you never thought you liked it," he teases, "but that's all right. We're just having a bit of a chat. You look like you've got a nice cock, Louis," he adds, sincerely. "You reckon you're a grower or a shower?"
"Bit of both," Louis says, and his voice comes out unsteady, though he doesn't feel he has anything to be ashamed of on that front. He feels like the flush in his cheeks is nowhere near going away, spreading down his neck and over his collarbones, if only he could see.
"I'd really like to get my mouth on it, if I'm honest," Liam tells him, and Louis bursts into startled laughter before he can catch himself.
"Right, all right," he says. "I think we can say the ice is broken, well done."
"I think he's serious, mate," Niall says, and that startles him again; the first time Niall's interjected in their conversation. "Liam really likes to suck a nice cock. Look at the stiffy he's got, Louis. Look how hard he is just thinking about it."
Louis looks between the two of them, confused. He's straining against his trackies, can't possibly play it off, but this is beyond surreal, streets of Manchester passing by the window next to Liam's head and Liam's hardon in plain view on the seat next to him. "What?" he asks, dumbly.
"If I could--" Liam lets go of Louis' shoulder and sets the clipboard, abandoned, down on the floor of the van to place his hands on either side of Louis' hips. "Could I just get a look at it? I really, really want to suck it, mate, I'm not lying to you, but if I could just look, maybe it'd be enough."
Louis looks at the hungry determination in Liam's face and ventures another glance to Niall with his steadily focused camera. There's no way they could cut this footage to spare their lecturer, he realises in a sudden rush of embarrassment, though he suspects he had an idea all along. He knows, now, that if he does get his cock out it'll be for Niall to zoom in on as much as for Liam to get his lips around him. But Liam's already showed him his own erection, and he doesn't think the look on Liam's face, pupils wide with lust, can exactly be faked. It's a bit like they're in it together, and maybe they've got a bit carried away, but he's not the only one.
"Yeah, all right," he says, voice shaky, and loosens the drawstring of his trackies, then hooks his thumbs in the waistband and pushes them down along with his pants, tugging his cock out over the top.
"Oh, would you look at that, Liam," Niall says, awed. "Listen-- it's just a pair of lips, isn't it, Louis; you sure you don't wanna let him suck it? Maybe for twenty-five extra quid? Let's see that shiny pink head, all right?"
It's true, is the thing; the thought of getting a pair of soft, wet lips - any lips - around Louis' cock has him nearly rocking his hips into air, and his foreskin rolls back over the head of his dick in the final stretch to full hardness. A drop of pre-come is already at the tip, wet in anticipation of being sucked. Liam gets down on his knees between Louis' own. "Pull your pants and trackies down past your bum, all right?" he says, and Louis does, exposing even more of himself and not missing the way Niall steps over Liam's heels to get another angle.
Niall's hard in his joggers as well, Louis realises, the weighty tip of his cock jutting obscenely from beneath the hem of the vest he's wearing, and for a moment Louis thinks of Niall's praise and wonders if Niall's going to offer to suck him next. They seem to wait together, Liam staring and Niall filming, until Louis relents, spreading his thighs the rest of the way. "Well, I'm hardly gonna turn down a blowjob, am I?" he says, and Liam makes a sound like a low growl, pulling Louis by the hips until his arse is nearly off the edge of the seat, and sinking down over him, taking him deep in one push and making him sigh in pleasure.
"Is Liam actually giving some head back there?" Zayn asks, turning his head for a view, and it's the first Louis actually sees of him, just in profile while Liam sucks him.
"Yeah, Zayn," Niall answers, and whatever concern he had for his voice being on the film seems to have disappeared entirely. "You should see it, Liam taking a cock, it's gorgeous."
"Is it, now?" Zayn asks, glancing back again appraisingly. He gives Louis a look over from beneath thick, long eyelashes, his dark hair quiffed smartly, and Louis can't blush any harder, can't bodily spare the blood to his face right now. He thinks they might be killing him with kindness.
"'s like," he breathes, rocking up against Liam's hands which are holding him fast to the seat, "you lot've never seen a dick before. I know what it looks like, it's not that-- god-- impressive."
"It looks good on film, right?" Niall comments, then adds, louder, "we'll save this shot for you, Zayn!"
“You'd better,” Zayn's voice carries back to him, and Louis' trying for quiet, but struggling; for all the encouragement and open staring at Liam's lips wrapped wetly around his cock, the muffled sounds of delight Liam is making in his throat, Louis still feels like this is precisely the thing that belongs in corridors, for fear of being caught out.
“Was there ever even a survey?" he asks tightly. "Or is it just a bunch of chat up lines?"
"More like ice breakers, like you said," Harry tells him. "That all right?" he asks.
Louis shrugs, his shoulders slipping against the back of the seat. It's not really, he doesn't suppose it is, but he's getting sucked off in the back of a van while being filmed. It's a bit of a genius setup, he has to admit, and he's no less hard for knowing, which means he likes it, which ought to mean something. "Who's this supposed to be for, then?" he says. “Zayn?” He gasps and his voice catches in his throat as Liam takes him deep, obscenely burying his nose in the hair at the base of Louis' cock, jaw stretched with it.
“For us,” Niall assures him. “Just for us, Louis. Look at how much Liam loves this.” Liam holds Louis steady, swallowing around the head of his dick, before pulling nearly off and wanking him in fast, short strokes with one big hand, then repeats it all over again, until Louis' gripping the edge of the seat, squeezing, and lets out a grunt he's certain was meant to be a curse.
“Are you cold?” Niall asks him, and Louis shakes his head, wonders how Niall could think that, when his sideburns are trickling sweat in front of his ears and he can feel the cool air hit the damp at the base of his neck. “Your nipples are hard,” Niall goes on, and reaches out with his free hand to brush his index finger over one; Louis jerks at that and shrugs Niall's hand away, sensitive to the touch and so, so close to the edge.
“You didn't even ask him first, Niall,” Louis hears Harry say, indignant, “what are you thinking?” and Louis can't help it; he laughs, bucking harder into Liam's mouth and making him actually gag and have to pull back for a moment to recover.
“Sorry,” he spares for Liam, then, “thanks for the concern, mate,” he tells Harry. “They're a bit of a-- bit of--” he closes his eyes as Liam sucks him down again. He's not got a lot to say that isn't driven by the need to come. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“Hot spot?” Harry guesses, and Louis rolls his head back on the seat.
“I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come,” he says, and Liam doesn't slow at all, holds his hips still while he shoots off in Liam's mouth with a moan, and Niall crows in victory.
“Show us, Liam, let's see what Louis gave you,” he says, and Liam pulls off to stick his tongue straight out, puddle of Louis' come gathered in the middle. Louis gapes at him, embarrassed at once that Liam kept his come and is showing it off like a pornstar, wonders how many cocks Liam could have sucked to become so good at that; but Niall's zooming in on it, saying, “oh, jesus, would you look at that! That's nice,” and Louis can't hide his face away, so he grins instead.
“Thanks, I think,” he says, and Liam swallows, turning his face back to him. He's beaming.
“That was sick,” he says. “Unbelievable, you got me so--” he presses the heel of his hand into his own cock as he rises off his knees and sits back down next to Louis. “So fucking hard right now, mate.”
“That was well worth twenty-five quid,” Niall declares, adjusting himself with his free hand. “Pay the man, Liam,” he says, and Liam pats himself down for pockets before producing a twenty and five. Louis busies himself with pulling his trackies and pants back up before he accepts them. He tucks himself back in, feeling self-conscious but for what reason now, he hardly knows; then he takes the notes and adds them to his pocket.
“Oh, excuse my manners,” Liam breathes finally, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “We've had you half-naked in here the whole time. Please,” he waves his hand. “Put your shirt back on, mate, you were brilliant, you earned that first fifty, you're all right.”
“Right, um--” Louis looks around for where he last set it down, then turns it right-side-in and pulls it back on. He tugs his hoodie up over his lap as well, just to keep it close and fold his hands inside. “So,” he says.
“So when a girl goes down on you,” Harry says, folding his hands as well where he has them at rest between his knees. “How do you feel about returning the favour?”
“I'm usually the one who went down on her first,” Louis grins, still a bit breathless and giddy with sex.
“So you don't have a problem with it,” Harry prods him, “you just haven't given a blowjob before.”
“Oh,” Louis says, blinking, and clearly Liam really did suck his brain out through his dick, “um. No. Shit, I'm sorry, I wasn't--” he glances over at Liam to find him sprawled back, his hand splayed over his flies, heel of his palm rocking gently over the head of his cock where it's visible over his belt. Liam's eyes are closed and lower lip red from the way he's been biting and releasing it in turns. “You said returning the favour,” Louis says.
“You don't have to,” Liam tells him, opening his eyes at last and fixing him with a sleepy stare, his pupils huge and dark. “I can take care of myself,” he says, and pushes his jeans down past his arse and balls, the way he'd instructed Louis to, in one swift movement.
“Shit,” Louis breathes, confronted with the sight of Liam's cock, hard and thick in his hand. “Okay,” he says, and as Niall crowds past him, he shrinks back against the seat.
“Let's get a look at that, Liam, you have a good wank in you, you think?” Niall says.
"You like going down on girls, then, Louis?" Zayn calls back over with the briefest of glances, and Louis nods though Zayn can't see it, leaning forward to respond.
"I love it, mate," he says. "it's one of my favorite things, next to sex."
"It's sex," Harry argues. "It's plenty of sex."
"Well, it's the kind of sex where we can have more sex right after," Louis agrees.
"So what do you love about it?" Harry wants to know, and Louis shrugs, smiling to himself to think of it.
"I love... like, it's the taste of them, I think, the smell when they're turned on, the way you can smell it in their pants." Beside him, Liam lets out a rush of breath and slides his hand, slick, over the head of his cock, and Louis can't help but sneak a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. "I love the sounds they make when you're eating them out," he says, after clearing his throat, "when their thighs get tight around your head, like they get embarrassed sometimes for loving it."
"A lot of that's pretty universal," Harry points out, and Louis falters.
He shrugs again, uncertain, unable to explain. Lads have a different smell altogether, he wants to say, and he's - tasted himself, knows how he comes and gets wet is so different from the girls at clubs, but it isn't like he's tried it, seen for himself how sucking off a boy is different. "I'm," he says, and sneaks another curious glance at Liam. The head of Liam's cock is taut, flushed dark, and shining with what Louis knows is spit, rubbed on with fingertips or his palm. So, so different, and yet Liam is making a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat, thighs spreading as he wanks himself. "I'll - let's give it a go," he says, and sets his hoodie aside to slide down off the seat with one hand on Liam's thigh to keep him steady.
Niall staggers back, narrowly avoiding tripping over him, but Louis doesn't particularly feel like making sure he's providing the best camera angle anyway. "Holy shit!" Niall yells, as he crouches, circling around to the other side of them. "He's really gonna do it! Zayn, are you hearing this?"
"I heard it," Zayn answers. "Good man, Louis, you're being a boss!"
Liam looks down at Louis when he gets himself properly situated between Liam's knees, and Louis ducks his head to press his lips to Liam's fingers where they're cupped around one of his balls. "I have to say, mate," Niall continues, as Louis mouths over Liam's fingers, drawing a hiss out of Liam and making him pull his hand up to grip the base of his cock. "You're going through with it and we didn't even offer you anything," Niall says, "that's unbelievable," and Louis just takes in the smell of Liam, trying to find some similarity, something familiar about it to like.
The skin of Liam's sac is smooth, closely trimmed but fuzzy, and Louis' lips tingle as he moves them over it, rasping his tongue up the underside and meeting Liam's fingers again where they're wrapped around himself. Louis pulls back when he does, glancing up at Liam, and he's struck by the look Liam's giving him, impressed but expectant. "You wanna put your mouth on my cock?" Liam asks, his voice low. "You gonna suck it?"
"I'm gonna try," Louis tells him, sliding his fingers under Liam's to displace them around the base and giving it a lick to taste before he straightens up on his knees and puts his mouth on the head of Liam's cock properly. Liam feels thick between Louis' lips, his mouth not quite stretched the way it would be with a girl as he holds her open and licks her out with broad strokes of his tongue, but he can taste the pre-come, the salt on Liam's skin, and the musky tang of it is close enough to memory to get Louis' mouth watering. He lets his spit slick the length of Liam's cock in his hand, slipping between his fingers, and once Liam's wet, it's more the same, Louis licking at him with his lips closed tight over his cockhead, listening for the changes in Liam's breathing above him, feeling the way his thighs seem to want to tremble.
"Louis," Liam groans. "Christ, Louis, mate, your mouth, your fucking lips, it's as if they were made for this. I can't believe you've never even tried it before." His hand is a heavy presence on Louis' shoulder, and it creeps over to the nape of his neck, kneading the skin, fingers brushing into the short hairs there. "You're already taking half of me in," he comments softly.
"I can see the head of your dick in his cheeks, Li," Niall says, and Louis closes his eyes, not wanting to watch himself being watched. Liam probably enjoyed doing this more than he is, right now, Louis thinks, if the noises Liam had made and the greedy way he'd sucked Louis down were any indication. He really can't get closer, forehead right up against Liam's belly the way he would with a girl, letting her ride his face. He can't, though he's trying, not with the pressure of Liam's cock in the back of his mouth, teasing and tickling.
The weight of Liam's hand shifts up and over the back of Louis' head until he feels Liam's fingers unfurl over his hair and start pushing down on him. He has the time to hum a protest before Liam's cock is forced too far back and Louis gags, tears springing to the corners of his eyes. "Whoa, steady," he hears Harry say, but Liam doesn't actually release him straight away, keeping the pressure on the back of his head another moment until Louis lets go of Liam's cock and fists his hands in the fabric of Liam's jeans, his eyes flying open as he pushes back on Liam's hand.
Liam releases him then, letting him pull off and cough into the crook of his arm as Niall says, "we can't have you sicking up in the van; let's be careful, lads, yeah?" and a bit of a chill takes him as he thinks about it, catching his breath. "Liam, you're a beast!" Niall laughs, and Louis can still feel the way Liam's hand had covered the back of his head, the easy way he'd held him down, like it was nothing.
"Sorry about that," Liam tells Louis, when Louis has wiped his eyes and chin on the back of his wrist, but Liam's eyes are still dark and he's still slouched back against the seat, legs spread, cock just as hard as ever. "I suppose I got too excited," he adds, and resumes stroking himself, fast and hard, biting his lip as he does.
Louis shrugs like he can't help it. "Happens to us all sometimes," he offers, watching Liam's hand move. He glances at Niall, who's absently touching himself through his joggers, palming himself for relief in fits and then leaving it distractedly, only to return to it a few moments later. Harry's watching him, he realises, quietly taking him in, but he can't guess at what he might be thinking. He doesn't know these lads at all.
"What do you think about letting him come on your face, Louis?" Harry asks him, and Liam's pace picks up, his hips rising up off the seat in tiny jabs as he works himself over. "It seems to me it'd be kind of up close and intimate, like you're looking for."
"Liam," Niall nudges him with his foot. "You about ready to pop?"
"I'm really close, guys," Liam grunts, letting his eyes slip closed again.
"It's gotta be worth at least ten quid extra," Harry says, directing his smile at Louis, shaking his head as though Louis'd be a fool not to take the deal. "What do you think, Nialler?" Harry continues. "Ten quid on top if we get a comeshot?"
"I don't really--" Louis blurts, unable to tear his gaze from the blur of motion that is Liam's hand on his dick. He's had his face wet, completely slick, after eating girls out, relishing the feel of it on his face, knowing it's there because he pleased someone, and the similarity is starkly clear. That Liam could come because of him, at the thought of him, at the way he'd sucked Liam's cock-- could come on him-- he bites his lip, then licks over it. "I think I would--"
"No, look," Harry says at once, and Louis blinks himself back, looking over at him. "We've made you uncomfortable. Boys, stop, we're making him uncomfortable."
"I'm stopping, I'm stopping," Liam mutters, slowing his hand. He shakes his head and takes a gulping breath as he sits up properly. "I'm not that desperate to come."
"Maybe you can think about it," Harry offers.
"At least let me have a shot of you coming on yourself, Liam," Niall says.
"No," Liam says curtly, tugging his pants and jeans back up over his arse. His cock is still a thick line in his boxers above the low waist of his jeans, the head lifting up against the elastic of them. "Get your own comeshot, you pervert. Look," he says, as Niall scoffs, giving him the finger. He pulls his shirt down fully to cover his abs. "We're all dressed, we're all decent, nobody has to come on anyone." He pats the seat next to him. "Come on, sit back up here, Louis."
Louis hovers anxiously, having already got up off his knees, and wipes his hands down his thighs. The tension in the back of the van is as palpable as the stiffy Liam's still sporting, and Louis isn't blind to the implication that he's responsible, but he doesn't see why he should feel like apologising for that. "Zayn, mate," he calls instead as he sits, "sorry I've just made things boring back here."
"No worries," Zayn shouts back. "It's just banter, innit?"
"It's not boring," Harry assures him. "We're just getting a feel for what you like."
"I think I'm a pretty easy read," Louis grins, feeling himself flush a bit again, remembering how hard he'd got just thinking about the possibility of being caught in the act of sex, how he'd responded to Liam's blowjob.
"Well," Harry allows, "we already know you sort of like being watched." He holds up a finger. "You really like being deep-throated."
Louis laughs and rolls his eyes. "To be fair," he says, trying to get a bit of parity, "who wouldn't?"
"But it turns out you're not so picky as to who's doing it," Harry points out.
Loius shrugs, flicking his fringe. "I don't suppose I liked it even as much as Liam did," he argues. He lifts his knee to nudge Liam in the thigh with it, and Liam grabs it with one hand and holds it against him, arching an eyebrow. Louis tries once to pull away once, gaze on the way Liam's hand fits around his knee; then he stays, resolutely not looking down to see if Liam's still hard in his pants.
"So when you masturbate," Harry says, rubbing at his bottom lip with his thumb, "you don't think about doing things you've never done before? Do you only do it to porn, or memories?"
"Sometimes I do it to the memory of porn," Louis says flippantly. He's got loads of fantasies, he thinks, a lot of things he's never tried but would like to. It doesn't mean they're this, whatever this is. Letting a bloke come on his face in a van on camera. Whatever.
Harry smirks at him, pinching his lip between his fingers. "Do you just use your hands, or do you ever, like," he gestures with his free hand, "incorporate anything else, when you toss off?"
"Incorporate," Louis raises his eyebrows. "What are these words, Harry! You'll almost have me believing in your little survey again."
"We really do have a lot of questions," Liam interjects, nudging his foot toward the clipboard on the floor. "We just go off-script if we can get better feedback that way."
"There's off-script and then there's Niall begging for a comeshot," Louis says, pointing his chin towards Harry. "Just my hands, mate," he tells Harry, miming wanking with his right hand. "I reckon I'm pretty standard."
"You ever touch yourself anywhere else, while you're doing it?" Harry continues. "Like, maybe your balls, or your taint?"
"Maybe a bit," Louis admits, squinting. "It's usually more straightfoward than that, once I get started."
"So you've never actually touched your own arse then," Harry guesses, and Louis snorts, blowing a laugh out between his lips. "Sexually, I mean," Harry adds at once, but a slow grin is already spreading across his face. "Like, with your fingers."
Louis needs a moment, shoulders shaking as he laughs into the side of his fist, and he hits Liam in the arm with his other hand until Liam shares his grin. "You have to admit," he wheezes, "that was a rubbish choice of words, but no, no, I haven't ever done that."
"Not even a little bit?" Liam asks, squeezing his knee. "I'm not talking about getting your finger right up there, but not even just a little touch? I mean," he raises his eyebrows and leans in like he has a secret, "it's your own arse. You're the only one who knows where it's been."
"I don't know what to tell you, mate," Louis shrugs, shaking his head. "It's just not a thing I've ever wanted to do."
"Is it because you have strong feelings about it, or you think you wouldn't like it?" Harry asks.
"I've just-- it's just never come up," Louis protests, and he knows he's gone red again, with his arse the centre of discussion and Niall panning between the three of them. Liam's hand hasn't strayed from his knee, but with Louis' legs wide apart like this, he can't hide his reaction, the shift in the fabric of his trackies when his cock starts to fatten up, ready to go again after so many minutes of teasing.
"Would you like to give it a try?" Liam asks him, and Louis straightens up, wresting his knee back from Liam, because he knew it would come to this. Liam lets him go, but he draws his gaze pointedly down to Louis' cock and Louis bites his lip, caught out.
"What if I, um," he says unevenly, covering himself with his hand and pushing back for a bit of pressure, growing harder against his palm, "I mean, you can't just go in there without any fanfare, is that it?"
"Oh, no, no, of course not," Liam says hurriedly. "We don't even have to put a finger or anything in to start. We can just-- why don't you sit back here," he pats his lap, "just rest here for a bit and you can get used to it. You're far too tense, mate."
"You can just take your trackies down," Harry tells him, "and sit back against Liam's hand until you're feeling up to it."
"Thirty pounds," Niall volunteers, from behind the camera. "Sound about right to you?"
Louis releases his lip and bites at his thumb for a bit. "Thirty pounds to take down my trackies," he chuckles at himself. He'd got fifty for taking off his shirt.
"We'll help you through it," Harry swears. "We can keep talking, touch you wherever else you want. You want Liam to go down on you again?"
"No," Louis mutters, and busies himself with the waist of his trackies, tracing his fingers over the drawstring before pushing them and his pants down to his thighs. His cock isn't fully hard, and he cups his hand around it to edge over to Liam, sitting with his back to Liam's chest over the spot where his hand is outstretched on his thigh, letting Liam's hand rest under one cheek of his arse.
"You want me to go down on you?" Harry offers gently, and Louis stops looking about distractedly to meet his gaze. Harry hadn't given any indication of his interest up to this point, and Louis'd never guessed at what might be on the table.
"Yeah, yes, perfect," Niall says, coming closer from the side, and Louis tightens his hand around his cock to prevent Niall from getting a good look. "Actually-- why don't you kiss him, Harry," Niall says, "Louis looks like he could use a friend right around now."
"I don't know what kind of friends you have, mate," Louis quips, but he catches his breath as Harry leans in and puts his hands on Louis' knees to balance himself all the same. Harry kisses him softly at first, lips already wet from near-constant licking and biting, and this is one thing Louis' done with other men, playfully and for performance, so it's not a surprise for him to respond to the plushness of Harry's lips and the wet sound his mouth makes when he opens up to deepen their kiss.
"I'm just gonna get my hand between your cheeks here," Liam murmurs into Louis' ear, and Louis nods into Harry's kiss, budging up a bit until he can feel Liam's fingers start to spread his cheeks, ease into his crack. He squeezes his cheeks together a bit involuntarily before releasing, which is funny, because he's worn enough tight trousers and had his arse groped enough times - in clubs, at festivals, in dance rehearsals - that he'd think he might be used to that. It's never been bare like this, though, and not for the purpose he knows is intended.
He breaks the kiss and sits back, feeling Liam's fingers seek around, worming up his crack from behind until the blunt tip of one finger finds his hole and circles it, pressing gently. "Easy," Liam says in a low voice. "Easy, there we are, I'm not gonna go anywhere. Just sit back. Spread your legs a bit more for me?"
"What're you up to back there?" Zayn shouts at them as Louis shoves his trackies down past his knees between him and Harry so that he can spread his knees wider, then settles down again. "You lot've gone quiet."
"We're finding out about the stuff that Louis likes," Harry answers.
"He likes getting blowjobs," Zayn says.
"You're too late in the conversation, Zayn," Niall bellows. "We already know that one."
"Well, did you like going down on Liam, Louis?" Zayn asks him, glancing back for a look. "How's it compare to the girls?"
Louis freezes for a moment under Zayn's gaze from where he's shifting subtly side to side, trying to get the pinched feeling of his skin settling between Liam's fingers to go away. He remembers in a rush how quickly the conversation about that had ended, and why, feeling the swell of Liam's cock against his tailbone. Liam's not hard anymore, and something in Louis is relieved to know it, but this is about Liam, so-- "it's-- I liked it," he answers carefully. "It had its own things to like about it."
"Don't lie," Liam breathes into Louis' hair, and nudges him in the side, where he's a bit ticklish. "You'll embarrass me."
"Well, when you come down to it, it's all just making someone happy, innit?" Louis says.
"So we know you like making people happy," Harry says, leaning in again, "and that you like to kiss." He touches his lips to Louis' again, and this time slides his tongue between Louis' lips and past his teeth, aggressive. Louis pushes back and their tongues slip together in his mouth before Harry pulls away again. "You've kissed men before," Harry declares.
"So've you," Louis says, raising his eyebrows pointedly.
"I'm not the one that says I'm straight," Harry points out. "Was it just for drama?" he asks, and furrows his eyebrows when Louis nods. "I dunno, mate," he says, with a small smile. "You were awfully quick to get comfortable with my mouth."
"It's just lips, right?" Louis says, and strokes his chin thoughtfully with his free hand. "I think a wise man said that once."
"You ever do more with a man onstage, then?" Niall asks.
"I've done more for theatre exercises," Louis says, "like, groping, having a bit of a snog." He shivers slightly as Liam circles his hole again, just with one finger, touching so lightly it tickles the hair around his rim.
"Would you ever do more with a man," Harry asks, "for a play, or for an exercise?"
"You mean more than I've done today?" Louis asks, and grins when Harry nods, humming his affirmation. "You know we just simulate that stuff, right?" he teases. "And I'm afraid Santa isn't real, as well."
"So you weren't just pretending, then, is what I meant," Harry says, tightening his grip on Louis' knees. "Pretending to like it." He kisses Louis again and Louis surges up into it as one of Liam's fingers quests ahead of Louis' rim, starting to rub at his perineum.
"And you like to be watched," Harry pulls away again, "and you do like to get your dick sucked." He lowers himself off the seat onto his knees before Louis, his lips red and still wet from their kiss, and Louis has to make room in the hand he has cupped around his dick when it stiffens up the rest of the way.
"Your nipples are a hot spot," Harry continues, staring hard at Louis with large pupils ringed with green, before he turns his attention to Louis' chest, pressing the pad of his thumb into one nipple through his shirt. Louis licks his upper lip and watches the furrowed line between Harry's eyes deepen as his nipple pebbles up under Harry's touch. "We never asked if you play with your nipples," Harry says, looking back up at him. "Or do you just let others play with them for you?"
"They get hard when I, um," Louis swallows. "Usually, if I've been wanking for a bit, or I've been turned on--"
"They're hard now, Louis," Harry comments, rubbing back and forth over the same nipple until it's so tight it starts to ache a bit, his other nipple tingling.
Louis sighs and moves from cupping his dick to gripping it, giving himself a squeeze. "Yeah," he says, "well. Like I said."
"So you play with them," Harry repeats, and Louis gives a jerky nod.
"Sometimes," he confesses. He sort of wants to give one a tweak now, but everything's out of rhythm; he's not working his way into a really good wank, not trying for that extra nudge of stimulation to bring him off.
"Do the girls you're with do it for you?" Harry asks him, still rubbing, occasionally flicking his thumbnail over Louis' nipple until Louis groans and grabs for his wrist with his free hand. "Do you tell them how to do it to you?"
"No," Louis tells him, hearing the whine in his voice, and when he rocks his hips up to thrust into his hand, Liam slips another hand beneath him, palm under the opposite cheek and fingers cradling his balls from behind. "Oh god," he mutters urgently, starting to stroke himself in short jerks between his body and Harry's, a bit roughly now that he's come once already. "Just me, just me. Only I touch them."
"Not even this?" Harry says, and brings his other hand up to pinch the other nipple, the fabric of Louis' shirt dragging roughly over his skin. Louis stifles a cry of pain, but his nipple's so tight, so sensitive, that it jolts him with a spike of pleasure all the same. "Not even a bit of biting?"
"You like it when it hurts a bit, Louis?" Liam says into the back of Louis' ear.
"I can't see a fucking thing," Niall complains.
"There's-- there's different kinds of hurt, isn't there," Louis says. "I've had girls bite. I've had scratches. What if I like to bite? What if that's what I want to do to them?" Harry leans in suddenly and closes his teeth around Louis' nipple, tongue wetting his shirt, and he squeaks. "Jesus!" he cries. "Not there, mate! Not there--"
"Does it hurt bad?" Harry mutters around his nipple, and Louis laughs breathlessly.
"I-- I-- no, I just--"
"Doesn't sound like it hurts," Niall comments. "Get that shirt out of the way; I wanna see 'em."
"'m not finished with 'em," Harry mumbles. "They scratch you on the back? Girls, I mean?"
"Yeah," Louis says, looking down at the top of Harry's head, where all he can see is the swirl of his thick curls. He rises slightly off of Liam's lap as he wanks, and Liam pulls him back down again, into the press of his fingers against his hole, against his taint.
"And bite you on the shoulder, I suppose." Harry pinches Louis' nipple between his lips, pulls it and the wet fabric of his shirt away from Louis' pec a bit before releasing it. Louis feels cold from the damp and hot at once where Harry's teasing him, aching from the tightness of his own skin and sore from the biting, the tweaking and rolling. "Can I have my hand back?" Harry asks him, and Louis releases his wrist, having forgotten he'd just sort of got stuck there.
"'s a bit distracting, innit," Louis mumbles. "You can't come at me all at once," as Harry leans in to kiss him again, and now that he's on his knees Louis has to bend down to meet his mouth. He's a bit desperate, if he's honest; desperate to get off again, to have Harry stop teasing his nipples, to stop making him want more of it. Liam's hand is cradling his balls, the other tracing over his hole again and again, until it's starting to feel more odd when his finger's gone than when it's there, like a word said so many times it loses its meaning.
The fingers of Harry's free hand brush the underside of his balls, meeting Liam's between his legs, and Louis whines into Harry's mouth, throwing his arm around the back of Harry's neck to pull him closer, to muffle the sound. His hand falters to a stop on his cock, squeezing around the base of it, trying to force it downward and out of the way as Harry leans up the length of his body to lick into his mouth, then sucking on his tongue when Louis licks back.
Harry's thumb rubs over Louis' fingers at the base of his dick, sliding past them and petting the bare skin, barely wanking Louis himself but making Louis buck up into the touch. He swallows the sounds Louis' making and strokes the underside of Louis' cock and digs his fingernail into the sodden fabric clinging to Louis' nipple, and when Louis squeezes his fingers into the nape of Harry's neck and bites down on Harry's lower lip, he pulls away. His lip is raw and shiny with spit, his eyes hooded.
"Let's get a look at those nipples now, Niall," he says, reaching for the hem of Louis' shirt. For once Louis' glad to be rid of it, his nipples rubbed raw by the fibers already, and he raises his hands to let Harry tug it off him. It's enough to make him wince when he does get a look at them for himself: both nipples are dark from blood flow, but the reddish stain to them is a bit of a shock, and the skin around the one Harry had been sucking is teased red as well, past his small aereolas.
"Harry, you beautiful fucking monster," Niall says fondly, panning over the damage. "Louis, you're going to be feeling that into next week, I promise you."
"I'm sure I will," Louis says softly, looking down at them. "Mate, it didn't seem like you were doing that much," he tells Harry.
"Oh, you knew," Harry says coolly, sticking his tongue in the side of his mouth as he watches Louis. He makes no move to continue where they left off, no move to resume kissing Louis, or touching his cock, and Louis feels himself blush all over, aware he's naked down to the knees. He starts to wonder if he could get off like this, just stroke himself the rest of the way to orgasm with Harry watching him carefully.
"You wanna try out a finger now, Louis?" Liam asks him then, and Louis realises he's even forgotten what it feels like without Liam's hands there, constantly touching.
He tightens his hand around his dick and clears the roughness out of his throat. "Yeah," he says, "that'd be all right."
“Let's get you down on the floor, then,” Liam says, urging Louis up, and Louis stumbles forward into Harry's grasp, his lower legs still trapped in his trackies.
“Knew you'd come around!” Niall cries, and Zayn whoops from the driver's seat, but Louis doesn't kick his trackies off as he balances himself with his hands on Harry's hips, pushing Harry back into the seat across from him with his weight. His arse is bare and his cock may be out, but he's not getting his kit entirely off for this.
“That's thirty quid for you,” Liam says, reaching over to deposit the ten and twenty on Louis' crumpled hoodie; then, “I'm sure we've got some lube in here somewhere,” he mutters, and Louis laughs, ducking his head.
“That's probably something I should've asked beforehand,” he says, cheeks aflame with embarrassment at how he'd let it slip his mind. Harry tilts his head back for another kiss, and Louis has to know, needs to know if Harry's hard as well; he sweeps one hand across the front of Harry's jeans and traces the line of Harry's dick with his fingers when he finds it, the hard shape of it following the line of Harry's zip.
Liam spreads Louis' cheeks apart again, but this time it's his arse open to the air and to Niall's camera, and Louis turns his head from Harry's and hides his face in the pendants around Harry's neck as Liam says, “take a look at this virgin arse, Niall.” Liam traces a finger over Louis' hole again and Louis is hyperaware of every twitch, the slightest involuntary clench of his muscles as Liam smooths through the hairs, saying, “I love it when they're not shaved like a pornstar - look at that tight, pink hole. You'll let me know if it hurts, Louis, yeah?”
Louis shakes his head, rubbing his forehead into Harry's chest. “Only my pride, mate,” he chuckles, arse over tip and about to be fingered up the bum whilst they discuss how hairy he is. He can't help it that he's curious, is the thing; he can't let it go, now, wants to know how it can be, and for all his embarrassment it's flattering, despite himself. He's never so much as looked at his bumhole before, and Niall wants to film it.
Liam's finger immediately returns to Louis' hole with a cool dribble of lube that makes Louis jump in surprise, circling and pressing, harder and closer to the tight centre, then working itself in, a blunt shape going the wrong way that Louis tries to push out so that he can open up to it.
“You want to touch yourself some more, mate?” Liam asks. “It'll make this go easier.”
“It's not really on my mind right now,” Louis says; he's gone half-mast though his nipples are still tingling, and his hands are occupied where they're clutching at the hem of Harry's shirt. As Liam pushes in with the length of another knuckle, Louis lurches against the grip Harry has on his elbows, big hands holding him up.
Harry slides one hand up Louis' arm to his shoulder and releases him with the other so that he can lean in. “Then let me,” he says, and he gropes for Louis' cock, fingers encircling the head and stroking Louis' foreskin smoothly back and forth a few times over it until he's fully hard again. “It really does go easier if you're distracted,” Harry tells him, turning his mouth to say the words into Louis' temple, making Louis thrust up into his fingers, every rock back of his hips seating Liam deeper in his arse. Louis' mouth opens, but all he can do is moan, the odd feel of Liam's finger inside him the only thing dulling the relentless stimulation of Harry wanking him, sliding his foreskin over him when he's so sensitive.
“Give him another finger,” Niall urges, from behind him. “Let's see you stretch him out.”
“Are you feeling it yet, Louis?” Liam asks him, stroking in and out with his finger, feeling bigger to Louis than one finger can possibly be, but he's already pushing another inside along the first without waiting for an answer, wet with lube but still burning along Louis' rim. Louis falters in his rhythm and then stalls, twisting his fist in Harry's shirt and breathing out against his collarbone.
“What am I supposed to feel?” Louis wonders, letting his head rest against Harry. “Ha-- Harry?” He doesn't know why he instantly thinks Harry would know, and then he does.
“It's supposed to feel good, Louis,” Harry tells him, not letting up in stroking him even though Louis' gone rigid, overwhelmed. “It's already all right, isn't it, though? You feel good like this, with my hand on your cock. A lad's hand on your cock, and another in your arse.”
Louis shudders, and that gets his hips rolling again, unthinking, just chasing the feel of Harry's fingers holding him, letting him fuck up into his own foreskin. His nipples start to pucker up again, hurting now with the memory of their previous abuse, and he moans again, discomfort warring with sharp pleasure, and then Liam crooks his fingers inside him. Liam finds his prostate and nudges his fingers into it, rubbing, slowly turning a slight tickle of sensation into a bloom of arousal that gets Louis even harder; he sags toward the floor of the van, yanking down on Harry's shirt. “Yeah,” he rasps, though he doesn't quite remember the question. Does it feel good, he thinks it was. “Yes.”
Harry lets go of him slowly, lowering Louis until he's supporting his own weight on the floor of the van, and then he straightens to unfasten his own button and open his flies. He shoves his jeans down past the legs of his boxers and Louis can see now what he felt before, the stiff line of Harry's dick, long and with the head lifting up the waistband of his pants. There's a damp spot on the cotton just below, and Louis knows the taste of that, now, remembers from Liam. “Christ,” he slurs, simply staring as Liam works a third finger in behind him, pushpulling at the edges of his hole. Harry's hard and in his face and he hasn't even been touched yet; hard just from kissing, just from watching, Louis thinks wildly, as he rocks back on Liam's fingers, trying to get more pressure on his prostate, trying to get closer to coming.
“We'll give you one hundred quid,” Niall says softly, “if you take a cock up the arse for a bit.”
Louis blinks at Harry's cock, then up at his face, dazed. “What?”
“You don't have to take it for long,” Liam tells him, leaning over him so he can feel the fabric of his shirt but not his actual body along the length of his back. “Just let us put it in so Niall can get a good shot, and then we can take it out again and you can go on your way if you like.” Liam's fucking into him faster now, and he can tell how much more quickly he opened up to the third finger, where it barely drags inside him.
There's a wet sound to the friction of Liam's motions as he rubs at Louis' prostate, making his mind reel with memories of sex, sex with girls, wanking himself wet in the toilet. He probably could take a cock for a second, he thinks. There's a lot he could do with a hundred pounds; Christmas presents and birthday gifts, nice things for his sisters when he goes home from uni to visit.
“You can decide if you want Harry to do it,” Niall offers, “or Liam. Your choice,” he says, as though the option to have Harry inside him is more appealing, as though Louis has registered a preference. He sucked Liam's dick, he knows what it looks like and how it felt in his hand, how thick it was, how it curved up to his belly. He's looking at Harry now, and to him Harry's massive, so long and he's not even got his hand round it yet. He's had Harry's mouth on his, but Liam swallowed his come. There's something to be said, he thinks, for the devil you know.
“I suppose I'll take Liam for that, then,” he says, and Niall claps him on the shoulder again, just like when he first entered the van.
“That sounds like a 'yes', Zayn,” Niall yells.
“He'll make you feel like a fucking champ!” Zayn yells back.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry says, nodding. “That's all right--”
“It's an honour, mate,” Liam says, and Louis can tell from his voice that he's grinning widely.
“You wanna suck Harry, then?” Niall says. “He might be too polite to ask, but he's in a bit of a state, there.”
“I want him to want it,” Harry says tightly, though his hand comes up to cup Louis' jaw, thumb sweeping over his cheekbone. “I want him to ask for it.”
Liam's pulling his fingers out of him with a slick, disgusting sound that is only ever appropriate in sex, and Louis feels cold and empty without them inside. “I reckon it'd make you pretty happy,” he says to Harry. “Me admitting I want to suck your cock.” He gets his fist in Harry's shirt again and tugs him closer, leans in until he can rest his forehead against the ridges of Harry's abs, where he can smell the pre-come dampening his pants. His mouth brushes the head of Harry's dick through his pants and that's what makes Harry push up into the touch, and makes Louis open his mouth to it, lowering Harry's waistband with his other hand until his lips are kissing Harry's cockhead and he can get his tongue on it.
Harry curls his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Louis' neck as he begins to suck the skin he's exposed, letting Louis tip his cock down for better access and keeping his hips still. Louis' mouth is watering again and he wonders if this is going to be something that gets him going from now on, the smell of come as much as cunt, or if it's just Harry, just Liam. He sucks Harry until Harry's cock is wet with it, and then he swallows the excess in his mouth and sinks farther down on Harry, looks up and tries to go slack around his cock.
Harry's looking down at him almost fondly, starting to pet his hair, and he smiles at Louis, saying, “you're doing so well, so good at this, mate.” He pushes a bit farther into Louis' mouth and Louis's throat gives, just shy of his gag reflex, but he manages to stay calm enough to take it. “You learned so much, just from sucking Liam,” Harry goes on. “Or is this what you like? How you like it?”
Liam places a steadying hand on Louis' hip by his arse, and Louis feels the thick head of his cock, wet with lube and cool with latex, start to rub against his hole, testing, edging in. His throat goes tight around Harry's dick and he pulls back a bit, but as Liam pushes Louis goes, too, taking Harry deeper, feeling himself give and stretch around Liam, but not enough. He whimpers slightly around Harry, squeezing his eyes shut; Harry's big, but right now Liam feels huge, and it hurts, feels like his skin is being pushed aside too fast. “You're amazing, mate,” Harry tells him soothingly. “Taking so much.”
“His arse is just swallowing up my dick,” Liam breathes, from behind, and the head of his cock finally sinks past Louis' rim, filling him up. “Look at it, are you getting this, Niall?”
“I see it, I see it,” Niall mutters. “He loves it, just listen to him.”
“This is what he's wanted all along, I reckon,” Liam says, starting to rock back and forth to get more depth, “all filled up with cock. Look at how much of Harry's cock he's taking.”
“Is he really?” Zayn calls back at them. “Didn't he say he'd never done it before?”
“Reckon he could deep throat me in a minute,” Harry comments, and his fingers grip in the longer hairs at the crown of Louis' head. Louis turns his gaze up to him, eyes watering, but Harry's already nudging at the back of his throat and, with Harry's hand there, he's not certain he'd be able to pull all the way off. He moans as Liam's cock drags across his prostate in shallow thrusts, giving him constant stimulation, making him start to leak where his cock is hard against his belly. Only for a second, he'd thought, but. But.
“Fuck, I can hear him from here,” Zayn yells. “He's gagging for it, innit?”
Louis can't quite hold himself up and stroke Harry's cock at the same time anymore, his arms starting to tremble with the effort. His chin's getting wet with the spit he's slicked on Harry's cock, tonguing sloppily over his skin, tasting the pre-come that burbles out of Harry in fits and starts. His cock is aching, bobbing with the rhythm of Liam pushing into him and pulling him back onto him, balls drawn up tight and ready to come. He just needs something to carry him over. He hasn't been touched in so long and he wonders if this is enough, if being fucked is enough, if it would be enough to swallow down Harry's come. He feels like his nerves are as exposed as his skin, raw and sensitive and nothing makes sense anymore, not the pain, not the humiliation, and not the tension coiled inside him from either, or both.
He lets go of Harry's cock, letting Harry fuck into his mouth, and curls his hand around his own cock to stroke, his moan of relief blending into the litany of noises being fucked out of him by Liam, and into him by Harry. He can feel himself going tighter around Liam's cock, almost pushing him out with the need to come, and he can tell Liam feels it too when he laughs.
“Oh, shit,” Liam says, “I think he's gonna come, lads. I think he's gonna come from my dick in his arse, how perfect is that?”
“Me too, I'm close,” Harry says. “So far down his throat – you think I should come on his face?” His voice is so thoughtful, like he could go either way, and Louis grips his cock tight, holding himself off with all he has. He thinks he'll cry if he comes from that, from the thought of Harry coming on his face alone.
“Fucking do it,” Niall spits. “Pull out and nut on his face. You know he'll love it. He was gonna do it with Liam, wanted to so bad.”
“I would've given him such a load,” Liam says wistfully, his strokes going erratic, and it's all Louis can take, fisting over himself hard and fast until he's hunching his shoulders and spilling into his hand, mewling in his throat around Harry and stroking himself all the way through. Liam pulls him off of Harry by the shoulders, and Louis opens his eyes long enough to see Harry give himself a few final flicks of the wrist before unloading a stripe of come over his cheek. He shivers, panting, back against Liam's chest, and closes his eyes for the rest, a streak across his nose that dribbles down over his lips, and one last fleck against his chin.
“Go, Liam,” Niall barks. “Now!” and Liam pulls out, dragging painfully on the withdrawal. Louis can hear the snap of latex and there are hands pushing him down, pinning his arms beneath him, to the floor of the van, before wet splashes hit his arse, and someone's hand spreads him open for a few drips down his crack.
“He's already come,” Liam says, disappointed, and sticks his finger back into Louis' arsehole, pulling on the edges of his rim. Louis sobs at the ache of it and tries to curl away, beyond caring, but someone holds him fast about the hips, and by the chin. Someone trails their fingers over his face and pushes one into his mouth, and he can taste Harry's come, thick and tangy, being rubbed off on his tongue. “Couldn't even wait for it,” Liam goes on, his voice distant. ”Such a fucking slag. How fucked out is that hole, Niall?”
“Jesus, Liam,” Niall says, with awe. “You fucking ruined him, would you look at that? Gorgeous.”
“Well, let's get you dressed again,” Harry says, close to his ear, and Louis opens his eyes to Harry pushing his hand into Louis' fringe, fingers sticky with come. “Help him up, lads,” Harry continues, and when Liam's arms come up beneath his armpits to lift him, Louis lets himself stagger forward, bracing himself on his hands.
“I'm all right,” he says raggedly. “I can do it, I'm all right.” He pulls his pants and trackies up over his arse, leaving the drawstring for now, and Niall hands him his shirt.
“You were brilliant, Louis,” Niall tells him. “Fucking aces, you were incredible. Such a sport, mate.”
Louis shrugs and ducks his head, scrubbing at his face with his shirt until he can't feel the weight of come on it anymore, wipes his hand on the inside. “Well, let's see what you've earned,” Liam announces, and holds up the thirty pounds Louis had left on top of his hoodie. He drops a hundred pound note on top as well, and Louis stares hard at it, considering. Niall's cheeks are still pinked, and he's still somewhat hard in his joggers; Louis wonders when he gets his turn, or when Zayn does. He wonders if the money he made tonight is better or worse than the rate on the street.
“There's a Sainsbury's about a mile from here,” Zayn says. “Bus stop's two blocks west. We can drop you off there, yeah?”
“Yeah, all right,” Louis says, and his voice is fucked raw; not even clearing his throat can save it.
“Did you have a good time, at least, Louis?” Zayn asks him, and Louis laughs despite himself, scrubs the cleaner of his hands over his face.
“I-- I'm not really in a-- state to answer that, I think,” he says. “I think some part of me did.”
“Well, no hard feelings,” Liam says, “we just had a bit of fun, yeah?” and Louis gives him a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head, pulling his shirt on and grimacing when he feels the spots where it's gone tacky against his skin. He'd thought, before, that he might have got Liam's number, maybe all of their numbers; that maybe he'd have called Liam or Harry and tried to sort himself out. He doesn't know where that stands, now. He thinks there might be too much he'd have to forget.
He grabs the folded notes on top of his hoodie and crumples them a bit in his hand as he puts them in his pocket; then he pulls on his hoodie and zips it up over the mess of his shirt. The Sainsbury's looms in the near distance and Zayn pulls into the lot, so Louis reaches for his backpack and stretches past Liam and Niall for the door handle as the van slows.
“Are you gonna be all right, then?” Harry calls after him as Louis climbs out of the van in front of the store entrance.
Louis looks around behind him and he doesn't recognize the lot; this is a Sainsbury's, but not his Sainsbury's. “Yeah, I'll be fine,” he answers brightly, and closes the door.