“Morning, Mr. Tomlinson!” came the jubilant greeting and a grand pat on Louis’ back.
Louis flinched, startled, as he locked the door to his house, not expecting anyone behind him, before turning around to fully face Harry and offering a tired smile. Harry didn’t look sleepy at all like most boys his age. Louis knew, secondhand, how teenage boys didn’t like to be awoken before twelve, if the way his son, Liam, acted was anything to go by.
Harry was wearing a simple navy V-neck T-shirt that hung a little too low for Louis’ liking, but it’s not like Louis could say anything about it; he wasn’t the kid’s dad. Harry noticed Mr. Tomlinson staring at his chest and mentally hi-fived himself.
“Hiya, Harry. I thought I told you to call me Louis the last five hundred times we’ve met. Also, why are you here so early? It’s only...” Louis drifted off as he passed his suitcase to his other hand and squinted to check his watch, “8:27, love. You usually don’t come till around two.”
“W-Well, ye-yeah, but, I just decided that...” Harry blabbed on with no idea on how to end the sentence without ending up looking like a blithering idiot. It’s not like he can straight up tell Mr. Tomlinson what he was planning on doing. Harry had too many telltale signs for when he was lying and his mother caught them all. He stutters, his ears taint red, and he shifts from foot to foot; sort of how like he’s doing now. But... this wasn’t his mother. Harry smiled a bit too saccharine for his taste, but put up the facade either way.
“Liam made the footie team yesterday and I wanted to surprise him with a breakfast before he wakes up,” Harry justified. “I learned how to make Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes and they’re wicked!”
That wasn’t a lie. And Harry actually wanted to show Liam how fucking perfect he can shape them.
“Ah, yes, I’ve heard. He wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Louis chuckled under his breath and shook his head playfully before sifting his fingers through his matted hair because he didn’t have the time to thoroughly brush out the knots. Out of all Liam’s friends, he liked Harry the best. Bonus: Harry lived a few houses across the street, while all of Liam’s other friends lived halfway across town.
“Anyway, I should try them sometime, love, if you don’t mind. If you need any sort of help, whistle for Niall, all right? Don’t be shy to do it, it’s his job,” Louis said. Harry nodded affirmative.
“Now, I have to get to the office. I’ll be back at 6.” Louis snapped his fingers and Harry nodded before letting an awkward smile grow on his face, his dimple digging into his left cheek. Louis didn’t have anything to worry about. One time when Harry invited Liam and Louis for dinner at his house, Louis told Anne, Harry’s mother, how much of a fabulous cook she was. She kindly refused the compliment as she kept gushing on about Harry cooked the meal because he wanted this to be a special dinner. Harry kept muttering for his mother to be quiet because he didn’t like to express his love for cooking; people thought it was too girly to cook, as the rest of his class told him, until Louis assured him that it was really awesome to cook because as people get older, they start to want someone to cook for them. Louis can’t cook for shit. (The reason he has Niall, his personal chef.)
Louis patted Harry on the back as he walked off the entry sidewalk before a smug grin etched on his lips and said, “And Harry... I bought Liam FIFA13 for 360 and PS3. I hid the games in my sock drawers in my room. You know where that is, right? I was planning to surprise him later but you could surprise him with the pancakes. Have fun with it!”
“Holy shit!” Harry crowed, before realizing what he said in the presence of a father. He widened his eyes and slapped a palm over his mouth for saying a dirty word. Louis just roared a laugh loudly and shook his head, disbelieving. “Holy shit, indeed. Bring your controller later. Forgot to buy an extra. Gotta run, Harry,” Louis said, appalled at the time, rushing out of the lawn and waving behind himself when Harry shouted to have a good day at work.
Harry ducked down low and grabbed the potted plant near the door to lift it up and snatch the housekey, realizing too late Louis forgot to unlock the door for him in the rush. He’s known about the hiding place for a couple of months now. Louis and Liam always tell him to use it but Harry’s been kinda shy about it. But not today. He has something special setup for today.
Harry steps in the threshold to be overwhelmed with the aroma of pizza, baffled, he sniffed the air. Confused as to why it smells like pizza at nine in the morning, he shut the door behind himself and toed off his shoes (knowing Louis likes a clean floor) before padding down the long, narrow hallway that held the entrances to many other different kinds of rooms. To the left there was an arcade room where all of Liam’s consoles were set up, some pinball machines, and a mini fridge with all sorts of imported Japanese soda and candy that Liam loves. The door on the right held a home theater accompanying a rather large popcorn stand and a huge collection of movies ranging from action, comedy, and rom-com. It was pretty convenient for rainy days. After those rooms, held a living room and then the staircase that spirals up.
Harry kept padding further into the hallway till the kitchen came into view, widening his eyes when he could make out a figure sitting on the kitchen chairs. Harry pouted, figuring his plan was ruined. If Liam was awake how was he going to successfully tiptoe into Louis’ room?
Harry smiled brightly when the full view of the person showed a shaggy-haired, blond, Irish lad.
“Niall!” he crowed gleefully, hugging the man from behind. “Why are you up so early? ...Making pizza at this ungodly hour of the morning?” Harry inquired, scratching his chin a bit, observing Niall munch on his reheated pizza.
“Harry, my man, I could ask you the same thing, you brat. Teens sleep in every chance they get. And it’s Saturday and you’re here bright and early. Well, lemme tell you somethin’, boy,” Niall whispered, leaning in closer to catch some dramatic tension, “pizza is good for every hour of the day! Aha!”
Harry waved a hand melodramatically in front of his face and stuck out his tongue out and making an exaggerated face of pure disgust.
“Ni, your breath smells like yucky beer,” Harry complained. “What made you drink so early? I don’t think that’s healthy, Ni...” Harry wondered how Niall got past Louis in his intoxicated state. With the way Niall staggers and stumbles just to get a glass of orange juice, there is no way Louis wouldn’t have noticed.
“Ye, well, have your boyfriend of three years cheat on ya for anotha girl,” Niall slurred, suddenly poking a finger in Harry’s chest annoyingly. “I mean, ya have ya cock up his ass for t’ree years, you’d think he’d at least be a lil gay? Am I right or wha’?”
Harry ears perked up at the mention of cock. Harry’s mind suddenly flashed with images of a naked Louis hovering over him sultrily, his teeth set on his bottom lip, and asking him if he’d be a good boy for him.
The strange look he received from Niall brought him back to reality and not his daydreams and quickly reminded him that he needed to get Niall away to not disturb him in the next thirty minutes or so.
“That’s unfortunate, Niall. I’m sorry that had to happen to you,” Harry said. What? There’s nothing wrong with being nice, too? “Why don’t you go spend the rest of the day in the theater room or the arcade? Don’t think about your... boyfriend, and just have fun! I’ll make you pancakes, how ‘bout it?” Harry rushed out the words, his cock straining in his too-tight jeans.
Niall scrutinized Harry up and down (his bottom half fortunately covered by the counter top), before nodding dumbly and hobbling to the arcade room.
“Stay in there if you want your pancakes, Niall!” he hollered to the hallway, receiving a halfhearted grunt in return.
Now that that is over with.
Harry stood still for a moment before trotting up the stairs slowly, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He blindly felt for his pocket, the slim tube of petroleum jelly bulging out of his skinny jeans pocket. Harry made it to the top of the stairs and walked past a door with the name LIAM in bold, blue letters with footballs surrounding his name.
He stood in front of Louis’ door, his emotions in check. No matter how wrong it was to get yourself off in your best friend’s father’s bed, fantasizing about getting fucked by an older, thirty year old man’s cock fucking deep inside him, no one is going to find out. Absolutely no one.
And that’s the only incentive Harry needed to sashay into that fucking room, search for Louis’ dirty clothes hamper, snag a dirty shirt that smelled like Louis’ sweaty scent, and situate himself on his hands and knees on Louis’ bed.
$ $ $
Louis slammed his private office door shut, signaling his coworkers to not bother him for anything.
It was only ten in the morning and Louis had just came back from the vice president of the company’s office with an earful of shouts and chastises for not turning in paperwork in on time and a truckload of new paperwork he needed more time on, meaning he had to to take it home and spend the whole day and night in his study after promising Liam and Harry that he would play FIFA with them. Christ, he didn't like breaking promises.
Louis placed down the paperwork at the edge of the table, not wanting to think about it at this moment.
He decided after a small debate in his head to check on the boys at home. He had inconspicuous security cameras hidden all around the house, tucked in the corners of bookcases, frames, chandeliers, and everywhere else practically. (He really cared about his expensive clothes and Liam, of course.) It’s not that he didn’t trust his maids and butlers, but you can never be too cautious.
He logged on his computer and immediately went for the homesecurity icon on his desktop, swiftly typing in the twenty-digit passcode to log in, and almost abruptly over thirty different views of his house popped up on the screen.
Deciding to not diddle-daddle on the subject, considering the immense amount of paperwork he had to do, he just checked the cameras one by one; the first one being the living room and the last being his own bedroom.
He did a double take when he saw the arcade room, seeing Niall so ecstatic and pretending to swim on the foosball table. Louis shook his head slightly, having to ask Niall later why he’s so drunk early in the morning.
The kitchen was relatively empty as was the theater room and living room. The kitchen seemed as if no one even touched it, disregarding the full cup of orange juice he frowned at.
When he got to Liam’s camera, to say he was surprised was an understatement when he saw Liam cuddling his Lotso teddy bear from Toy Story 3, snuggling deeper into his Toy Story themed bed sheets. He smiled briefly at his adorable, young at heart son when a thought struck him.
Louis snapped his fingers in remembrance, he must be getting the games hidden in his sock drawer, so he quickly switched to his bedroom’s camera and-- oh.
Out of all the positions the camera could be fixated on, it had to be fixated spot-on on Harry’s clenching hole swallowing up Harry’s thin, long, lithe fingers. Louis swallowed thickly, not knowing what to do with himself. The correct thing to do is to exit but...
Harry had his right cheek pressed on Louis’ pillow, sniffing the fragrance that is specially Louis. He brought his hand that was fisting a dirty gym shirt of Louis’, inhaling the sweaty scent and pressing his fingers inside himself deeper and harder. His bum was in the air, pleading. Harry’s knees were wide apart but his feet were pressed close, side to side, curling and uncurling at the pleasure of being filled, but it’s not nearly enough. He needed Louis, he thought, whining.
Louis stared awestruck at the screen, his lips parting as soon as he releases a breath. The hand that was on the computer mouse had slid down under the table to palm himself.
Louis pressed the palm of his hand down harder on his clothed groin at the way Harry started to maneuver back and forth to reach deeper in himself.
"L-Louis, pl-please..." sounded lowly from the monitor. Which had Louis caging in a strangled groan in his throat.
Without preamble or rational thinking, Louis unzipped his dress pants and shrugged down his boxer briefs a tad to release his cock that was caged in his underwear.
He finally had a sweaty palm rubbing up and down his cock at slow pace, wanting to savor in the sight, although wishing he could materialize next to Harry if he said his name three times.
Harry's pace was lessening, his fingers slotting in and out slowly, his wrist aching. He wanted to cum just by his fingers for Louis, imagining Louis fingering him and telling him he can't touch himself. Harry moaned loudly as he envisioned Louis hovering over him with a smirk and beads of sweat on his chest dripping onto Harry's tummy.
Louis could tell Harry was starting to feel weak with the way his arms were trembling. Louis unconsciously whispered, "On your back, love," before mentally berating himself that Harry couldn't hear him.
But it was as if Harry had a sixth sense when Louis watched him maneuver himself on his back a few moments after.
Breathy moans and pants by Harry were resonating dully all around the room that just had Louis gradually quicken his pace, groaning when Harry pressed Louis' dirty shirt tighter against his face and his fingers being enveloped consecutively by his hole, wanting to cum to the smell of Louis.
"L-Louis, please... I need to..."
"You need to, what, love?" Harry envisioned Louis insinuating in his ear.
"Need to cum, Daddy," Harry moaned under his breath, delving his fingers deeper and nudging his prostate with the tips of his fingers, just barely.
"Holy fuck," Louis gasped, quickly sliding two fingers down his cock to squeeze at the base, not wanting to cum just yet. Harry loves to be dominated. He quickly recovered and continued to slide his hand up, his palm catching the precum, and down.
"Why should I let you come, sweetums?"
"Mm.. a good boy. Such a good boy for you, Daddy. Promise, now, please, let me... c-cum," Harry panted hotly against Louis' dirty shirt, the hard work of pleasing Louis overwhelming him, continuing to finger himself faster, ignoring the dull ache in his wrist.
Louis watched as Harry started to lift his hips higher and dig his bum on the bed repeatedly, exploring and searching for a good angle. Harry then covered his mouth with Louis' shirt, the only thing wafting into his nostrils is the scent of a sweating Louis, aka Louis if he was fucking Harry into his mattress.
The thought of Louis' cock filling his hole instead of his own fingers had Harry releasing a deep, "Daddy!" and prolonged moan into the shirt, furling and digging his toes into sheets of the mattress, and canting his hips off the bed as thick streaks of white cum painted a masterpiece on his tummy and even going as far as above his nipples, heaving and inhaling air harshly.
Louis watched Harry unravel under his own very eyes with gasping pants, disbelieving that a fourteen year old that just learned what masturbating is could make him feel such intense pleasure that not even his ex-wife had that affect on him.
Louis, being more experienced, only came with a grunt, shoulders hunched over the desk, biting his wrist, as his fingers were dripping with a few spurts and some landing on his white cotton shirt.
He panted with short breaths, eyes wide looking at his now soft cock, and being cognizant of what made him cum so hard.
He quickly snapped his neck up to look at the monitor to find Harry sluggishly collecting his clothes and adorning them once again. He looked like he could hardly stand, and Louis smirked to himself because Harry was imagining him.
Harry watched as Harry tossed the dirty shirt in Louis' hamper and scurry out of the room before backtracking towards Louis' drawers and quickly finding FIFA and stepping out of the room with a lazy smile flitting on his face.
Louis, despite how wrong it felt and is, rewinded the tape to catch a few screenshots to send to his phone.
I just came to my son's best friend fingering himself in my room and smelling my dirty gym shirt, Louis thought.
Harry was so young and hot but innocent and at the same time devilish that it drove Louis fucking insane. Despite how wrong this situation is, he still couldn't shake off the image of a very hot and bothered Harry writhing under him at his command.
Louis based a very wrong decision for his pleasure and amusement.
Louis is going to confront Harry once and for all so Harry can demonstrate what he wants from his Daddy.