Louis is snuggled up under his warm blankets, dreaming about skateboarding in a field full of spag bol, which should sound extremely messy and slightly disgusting to others, but in his mind it is the most beautiful thing his subconscious could ever develop. Dream Louis startles to a stop when he hears a loud noise burst through the bright blue sky, looking every which way to find the source of the disturbance. The sky was turning dark, the noise becoming louder and louder as Dream Louis skateboards the fuck away. Real Louis is then ripped from his glorious dream, eyes refusing to open while his stupid phone is buzzing loudly under his pillow. He rips it out, opening the text that is from “Gigantic Prick” (who is actually one Zayn Malik) and reads the worst text that he has ever received in his entire 21 years of existence.
“hey lou had to leave for an exam also no groceries in fridge go pick some up. x”
Louis throws his iPhone to the ground, not giving two fucks if he breaks it or not. All he cares about is the lacking of food in this flat. His stomach decides to growl extremely loud at that moment.
“Motherfucking shit fuck cunt. I am going to murder you, Malik. Throw you out the window when you’re passed out on the couch,” Louis grumbles to himself as he drags his sleep heavy body from under the blankets. He walks across the room to throw a plain white t-shirt over his torso, walking over to his dresser to slip on a pair of black skinny jeans. He tousles his hair haphazardly, not really caring what he looks like as he grabs some money from Zayn’s wallet (that’ll show the prick) and goes over to the living room to slip on his vans. His skateboard is waiting patiently by the front door while he goes to examine the fridge for the exact contents that he needs to buy.
He finds that Zayn wasn’t lying at all when he said they were out of food, the fridge depressingly bare besides a box of take away from he thinks a few days ago and a rogue bottle of periperi sauce from Nandos. He remembers vaguely that it might be Niall’s. He should probably return that to him before he starts to have separation anxiety.
Louis sighs heavily as he shuts the fridge door, walking over to collect his keys and his skateboard. He locks up his and Zayn’s flat, walking down the stairs and heading on his way to the nearest Tesco Express. He decides to take the scenic route so he can have double the time to think of the many creative ways he can castrate Zayn for forgetting their groceries. His phone buzzes with a text and he looks down to open it. He glides along the sidewalk, not paying attention as he steers himself forward. What he didn’t plan was the large crack in the sidewalk that his wheel got caught in. And he definitely didn’t plan for his body to go flying in the general direction of a boy who was balancing himself on a yoga mat.
Louis shrieks loudly as his body collides with the other boy’s, face smashing into said boy’s back which, of course, made him topple from his weird yoga pose. They lay sprawled on the ground, Louis on top of the weird kid who does fucking yoga in a park. Yoga Boy lifts his head out of the grass and mumbles in a gravely voice, “You ruined my vibes there, mate.”
Louis groans as he sits up and rolls off of Yoga Boy’s back. “Yea, well, you ruined my skateboard, mate. Think we’re quite even.”
Yoga Boy chuckles and sits up, shaking his hair in a ridiculous manner and turning around to face Louis. And jesus fucking christ on a stick, Louis did not expect Yoga Boy to be so, well, fit. Even though he was wearing what Louis thinks is yoga pants. Actual form fitting yoga pants.
His face was kind of frog shaped, in a cute, overly large eyes and mouth way. Said eyes were a deep mossy green, nose long, and lips really fucking plump and pink and distracting. And his stupid curly hair was pulled back in a stupid neon pink pony tail. God help Louis because he can’t believe he ran into Greenwich’s only neon pink pony tail wearing yoga boy. Louis doesn’t think it’s that much of a bad thing, considering.
Yoga Boy centers himself in an upright position on his mat, momentarily forgetting about Louis’ existence to connect his bare feet together, knees bending down to touch the ground. It looks a bit painful, Louis thinks, subconsciously rubbing his own thighs with his palms. Yoga Boy takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, locking them with Louis’. Louis just sits back, watching him breath in and out. Yoga boy then starts to fan his legs up and down, vaguely resembling a butterfly’s wings fluttering in the air. Louis thinks that the comparison is pretty spot on of what he can tell of Yoga Boy’s character.
Louis snaps out of his daze, pointedly standing up and looking down at the boy who was still fanning his legs. Louis walks over to retrieve his skateboard, the front left tire a little bent, but other than that it was perfectly fine. Louis huffs at his findings, rolling his eyes and damning Yoga Boy for ruining his wheel. Louis thinks it probably wouldn’t be a big deal to anyone else, but Louis is a fucking drama major, being dramatic is in his god damn soul. He can’t help it.
He walks back over to Yoga Boy who is sitting in the same position, eyes following Louis’ movements as he walks back over to him. “So, Yoga Boy, what have you got going on over here?” Louis questions while he drops his board to the ground, sitting down on it in front of him. He decides against berating Yoga Boy for fucking up his front wheel, not wanting to kill his “vibes” for the second time.
Yoga Boy barks out a laugh, hand clapping over his mouth as his eyes widen at his sudden outburst. Louis thinks he has an obnoxious laugh. Louis thinks he wouldn’t mind making him smile again.
“Well, I’m obviously doing myself a bit of yoga. This here position is called the Bound Angle Pose. It’s very good for your hips and your groin,” Harry explains in a slow drawl while he starts to fan his legs again. And. Well. Louis then has a hard time trying to keep his eyes away from said groin, cheeks pinking a bit as Yoga Boy continues, “Also, while Yoga Boy is a lovely name, my real name is actually Harry. Not short for Harold, if you were wondering.”
Louis scoffs at Yoga Boy, who is now named Harry (Louis prefers Yoga Boy), and stands up. “Well, Harold, it was nice barreling into your little yoga party over here, but I really need to run. Got a wife and kids to look after. And when I say wife and kids I mean a stoner artist room mate who refuses to buy groceries.” Louis bends down to pick up his skateboard, saluting Harry as he walks back over to the pavement.
He can vaguely hear Harry yell “M’ names not Harold!” and if Louis starts to skate in the complete opposite direction of the nearest Tesco, then, well, no one can blame him. He’s too intrigued by the strange boy he quite literally crashed into at the park.
Louis is honestly fucked.
It’s been a week since he quite literally crashed into Yoga Boy Harry at the park, and he’s been thinking about said boy for at least 6 and a half of those days.
He really doesn’t get it, doesn’t get the constant pictures of Harry that flash through his mind. Harry doing ridiculous yoga poses. Harry and his distracting pink lips and green eyes. Harry in his fucking yoga pants, clinging to what Louis imagines is a nicely toned little arse. He really doesn’t get it, except he kind of does.
Louis wants to fuck Harry.
And, quite frankly, he feels a bit discouraged, considering the fact that London is quite big and the chances of him running into Harry again are slim to none.
Louis sighs as he plops on his couch, turning on the TV to watch Gossip Girl reruns on ITV2. Blair would surely understand what he was currently going through.
“Fuck, Zayn, could you please hurry the hell up? I would really love to get my order in before I turn 50.”
Louis waits even longer as Zayn orders his coffee in an extra slow voice, absolutely annoying the shit out of him. Louis honestly just wants his grande white mocha caramel frapuccino. Louis is seriously considering homicide.
After Zayn is finally done ordering, Louis steps up to the till to see none other than Yoga Boy Harry from the park. Behind the counter. Of the coffee shop that is located 2 blocks away from his flat.
“What the actual fuck,” Louis grumbles, staring up at Harry who is casually smirking down at him. Harry cracks a smile as Louis is stood speechless, showing off two perfect dimples in his cheeks. Fucking dimples. Louis is convinced that this boy is the spawn of a sexy satan. He’s not really sure what a sexy satan would look like, but that is definitely not his point and Harry definitely just said something to him.
“What,” Louis deadpans, looking lost as Harry chuckles into his hand.
“I said, may I take your order?” Louis almost coughs up a lung as he relays his order, noticing Harry’s disgusted face when he’s done.
“Really? You want that? Do you know how much sugar and fat is in there? It is extremely unhealthy for you...” Harry breaks off, grabbing a sharpie to write Louis’ name on the cup. If Harry actually knew that his name is indeed Louis.
“So, babe, are you going to tell me your name? Or are you just going to stand there,” Harry says as he draws a little smiley face on the cup, accentuating it with little stars and butterflies. Of fucking course he would.
“Yes, young Harold, my name is actually Louis. With an 'S’. Make sure you get that right,” he declares, taking out his wallet to pay Harry. He throws 10 quid on the counter and walks over to where Zayn is standing, mind racing with words like “fate” and “shit fuck he’s SO fit” and “how am I going to get into that boys yoga pants”.
Zayn stares at him, and Louis realises that he’s said these words out loud. “I honestly don’t want to know. But if it’s about barista boy over there, then you should probably know that his eyes are currently glued to your ass. Also, he’s walking over here right now, wearing...”
Louis gapes at Zayn, spinning around to see Harry walking towards him. From outside of the counter. Holding his frapaccino. In yoga pants. Harry is walking towards him in his fucking yoga pants. Louis is internally thanking every single god that decided to shoot a little luck and fate his way so he can fuck this god damn gorgeous boy.
“Hey, Louis, thought you might want this. Wanna go sit at that table over there?” Harry points out a little table in a corner, looking cozy and warm and private. Louis’ mind buzzes as he feels Harry’s hand at the small of his back. Harry’s giant hand. With long fingers. Louis likes to imagine what exactly those long fingers would be good for.
They sit down at the table, Louis casually drinking his frap, not so subconsciously sucking on the straw and hallowing his cheeks. Harry apparently doesn’t notice as he claps his hands together and announces, “You should learn some yoga. I mean, I should teach you some yoga.”
Louis scoffs, setting his drink on the table and looks up at Harry, “I happen to know quite a bit about yoga, Harold, I don’t think I need your lessons.” Louis flutters his eyelashes ridiculously, sticking his finger in his whipped cream and plopping it into his mouth. “Besides,” Louis says between licks, "I might even be a bit more advanced than you.” Which is a total lie, but Louis honestly doesn’t care at this point. He just wants to impress Harry enough so he can fuck his brains out.
“Oh, so you know a thing or two about yoga, do you?” Harry asks with a smirk, eyes zeroing in on Louis’ finger. “I still think I could teach you some things. There’s a few, ah, techniques that you may not know.”
“Hmm, well, Yoga Boy, then I might take you up on that offer. Just name a date and location and I’m all yours,” Louis says with a dramatic suck from his drink, definitely not hallowing out his cheeks. He has morals. “It would be an absolute pleasure to learn some new techniques from someone as advanced as you.”
Harry zeroes in on Louis’ mouth, eyes becoming cloudy with what looks like lust. “Right, well, we can go right now. Back to my flat. Right now. So we can- so I can teach you some yoga. Yeah, yoga.” Harry visibly gulps as he rubs his hands on his thighs, looking flustered as Louis finishes off the last of his frap with a long suck.
“Sure thing Harold, let’s get a move on. Don’t want to waste a second of your teaching time.”
Louis didn’t expect Harry to get his yoga mats out.
Yet here Louis is, sitting down in what Harry calls a Sukhasana pose, which is just a fancy word for casual Indian style, Louis thinks.
Louis looks at Harry who is currently sat in front of him, hands resting peacefully on his knees and throat vibrating to let out little soothing hums. Louis can admit that this all is rather relaxing, but he can also admit that he would rather be in a much less relaxing pose. Which happens to include Harry’s dick up his arse. But he isn’t complaining. Much.
Louis finally decides to close his eyes, breathing in deeply to reach some sort of peaceful state, even if his mind is a mess of sex and Harry. Louis does actually find himself calming down, mind focusing on his own deep breaths and the quiet around him. He is so focused on himself that he doesn’t even hear Harry shuffling around on his own mat.
Louis peeks his right eye open a few minutes later, zeroing in on Harry and the strange pose he’s currently trying to get his giraffe legs into. He’s balanced on his hands, legs awkwardly trying to rest on his slightly inverted elbows. Louis is kind of awed at how Harry is keeping his body in that pose, thoughts scattering to places that are a bit less than pure.
When Harry gets himself situated in his pose, he speaks softly into the room, “This is called the Crane Pose. Only for people who have excellent upper body strength.” Louis stares at Harry’s bulging biceps, dick twitching in interest at the double meaning of his words. Yeah, Harry could definitely pick Louis up and balance his body against the wall. Louis would really like this to be happening in the near future.
Harry breaths out slowly as he lowers his legs back onto the mat, kneeling down to rest. Harry then absolutely takes Louis by surprise and rips his own t-shirt off, revealing a smattering of tattoos that fan across his chest and scatter down his upper left bicep. Louis may or may not be salivating at the site of a bare chested Harry.
“Jesus fucking christ Harold, is that a butterfly on your stomach?” Louis questions, not exactly surprised at the large butterfly that stands proud and strong on his upper abs.
“Yes, Louis, there is a butterfly tattooed on my stomach. It symbolizes change and freedom.” Louis gapes at him, totally not surprised at his philosophical description of a fucking huge butterfly that is forever engraved into his skin.
Harry suddenly stands to stretch, arms above his head, abs twitching and torso going on for days. His legs look quite toned in the thin fabric of his yoga pants, slight bulge from his dick poking out. Louis can’t take it anymore. He simply can’t handle Harry serving himself on a god damn silver platter. This has got to stop. And what better way to stop him than to suck his brains out of his dick?
Louis stands abruptly, landing himself right in front of Harry. Harry smirks down at him, obviously knowing how much he affects him. Well, Louis thinks, I’m about to scrub that smirk right off your-
Just as Louis is about to finish his dramatic inner monologue, Harry grabs his face in both hands, thumbs grazing his stubble lightly, plump bottom lip jutting out. “You know, Lou, kissing can be quite relaxing. I think we should practice that for a bit.”
Fuck yes, Louis thinks. He would absolutely love to have Harry’s tongue in his mouth. For relaxation purposes only, of course.
Harry bends down the few inches to reach Louis’ mouth, lips intermingling with his own. Harry’s lips are as soft as Louis imagined they would be, plump and perfectly nestled with his own thinner lips. Harry pulls back a little, staring into Louis eyes, a little groan emitting from his throat as he thrusts his head forward to kiss Louis with more intent.
Louis whimpers lowly in his throat, arms coming up to wrap around Harry’s neck. Louis’ tongue peeks out between his lips to stroke along Harry’s bottom lip, gently asking for permission to get into his mouth. Harry complies with a quiet moan, large hands smoothing down his shoulders and traveling all the way to his lower back, pinky fingers gently rubbing his skin under his t-shirt.
Harry pulls back abruptly, bending down to kiss along Louis’ jaw, quick pecks descending down his neck. He nips at his collarbones, suckling on his skin gently as Louis gasps and intertwines his fingers into Harry’s hair. He gives a sharp tug to get Harry’s mouth back onto his, not expecting Harry to absolutely fall apart from his harsh treatment. Louis groans lowly as Harry looks into his eyes, the ring of green barely discernable from his lust blown pupils.
Harry pecks Louis on the lips, face lighting up with what seems to be his “idea” face. Louis isn’t sure if he should be scared or excited. Probably a little bit of both.
Harry slides his hands down to Louis’ arse, large hands completely covering it. Louis doesn’t even want to think about the fact that Harry is just so much bigger than him, so much broader, can’t stop thinking that Harry can absolutely wreck him. And Louis would really love if Harry got to it already.
“Harry, love, could you please-” Louis cuts off with a gasp as Harry squeezes Louis’ arse hard, simultaneously grinding his hips forward to grind into Louis’. Louis can feel Harry’s hard cock through his jeans, barely covered by his god damn form fitting yoga pants.
“Yeah, Lou, I think it’s time I teach you about a special pose I know. It’s quite the relaxing pose, as it helps stretch out your spine and back. It’s called the Extended Puppy Pose,” whispers Harry, mouth sliding against Louis’ sensitive lobe, “It might be a bit uncomfortable if you wear skinny jeans while doing it, so I can recommend, as a professional of course, that you should slip them right off.”
Louis whimpers and trembles as Harry bites lightly on the shell of his ear, hands quickly going down to unbutton his jeans. Harry slips them down his thighs, breaking away from Louis so he can shove them down and off his legs.
Harry then spins Louis around and walks him to the edge of his mat, shoving down on his shoulders as to tell him to get on his knees. Louis complies, having a vague idea of what Harry was about to do to him. And Louis is definitely loving this little yoga lesson.
“Ok, babe, get into a standard dog-style pose,” Harry instructs as Louis situates himself on all fours. “Now, here’s a pillow that will keep your head more comfortable since you’re a beginner to this pose. Place it between your arms, good, good. Now, hug your upper body on the pillow, chest close the floor, arse high in the air. God, babe, look how perfect you are, absolutely amazing at this.”
Louis whines into the pillow, cock twitching at the praise in Harry’s voice. He can hear Harry shuffling around behind him, thinks he is most probably taking off his yoga pants. Shit, Louis thinks, he’s about to have sex with harry. Yoga style sex. This thought makes Louis’ cock throb harder, arse rocking back into thin air.
One second he hears the opening and closing of a drawer, and the next Harry is kneeling behind him, large hands gripping his pants covered arse. Harry inhales deeply as he plays with his cheeks, enjoying the feel of Louis’ arse in his hands.
“Shit, Lou, your bum is absolutely amazing, so fucking round, so fucking hot,” Harry whispers as he lands a small smack onto his bum, causing Louis to yelp and moan. He can practically hear the smirk on Harry’s face, the fucking smug bastard.
Harry leans down to place a chaste kiss at the small of Louis’ still clothed back, bunching up his t-shirt to lightly lick at his back dimples, “You know, this would be much easier if we took off your pants.” Louis feels Harry’s mouth form into a smirk on his lower back, and his mind absolutely shuts down at the feeling of Harry’s tongue licking down his pants covered bum.
Harry gently folds his fingers under Louis’ pants, slowly slipping them down his arse. He places small kisses as he goes, mouth fluttering all along his bum, tongue poking out to lick gently. Louis’ cock props out of his pants, hanging hard and red and wet between his spread legs. He can feel a small drop of precum roll from his slit, breath catching as Harry palms over his now bare arse.
“God fucking damn, Louis, ‘ve got the arse of a pornstar, you do. So fucking fit,” Harry says as he leans down and spreads his cheeks, tongue finally flicking out to lick along Louis’ hole. Louis sucks in a deep breath as he rocks back into Harry’s touch, hands squeezing hard on the pillow underneath him. Louis honestly doesn’t care if he looks like a desperate little cockslut right now, because he and Harry both know he’s gagging for it.
Harry licks slowly, alternating between small kisses to his perineum and quick licks to his hole. Louis grinds back onto his tongue, eyes squeezing shut as Harry grips his arse cheeks to keep him still. He pulls away slightly and shocks Louis’ nerves as a burst of cool air flows onto his hole. Harry then pulls away completely with one last flat lick, spreading from Louis balls all the way onto the end of his crack.
Louis can feel Harry reach over for something, hand still gripping one cheek. Harry makes a little “aha!” noise as he finds what he was looking for. Louis can hear a clicking noise that sounded like a lid being opened, and fucking christ, Harry is about to finger him. About to get him nice and stretched so he can fuck Louis against the wall. Louis rips one hand away from the pillow to grip the base of his cock, staving off the orgasm that was quite literally about to crash into him.
Harry notices Louis’ grip and immediately slaps away his hand, left hand squeezing harshly into Louis’ arse cheek. Louis really can’t be blamed if he came right that second, but stops that train of thought as he feels Harry’s body lean over him, pants covered cock grinding into his arse as he whispers into his ear, “No, Louis, you aren’t coming until I tell you to come. Thought I’d make that clear.”
Louis has nothing to say to him, considering the fact that his mind is currently blank. He has no idea if he will even survive anymore teasing from Harry. He agrees with himself as Harry’s lube slick finger prods at his hole. Yup, Louis thinks, this boy is going to absolutely wreck him.
Harry’s middle finger slips in easily, the long digit gliding torturously against Louis’ walls. He slips his one finger in and out, slowly working up in speed as he puts his pointer finger in along with the middle.
Louis pushes back on his fingers, body buzzing at the small stretch. Harry scissors his fingers a few times, pumping them fast, fingers finally curling down to prod at Louis’ prostate.
Louis absolutely melts when Harry’s fingers hit that spot, thighs shaking as he teasingly rubs against it. Louis is now moaning loudly, absolutely shameless, bum pushing back into Harry’s every thrust. Harry then abruptly puts in a third digit, fingers crowding around each other as Louis gets familiar with the stretch.
Harry’s fingers are so fucking long, Louis thinks, so fucking long and so fucking big, stretching him out so good. And he knows he needs to be stretched well, considering the feel of Harry’s cock through his pants when he was grinding onto his bum. Louis honestly didn’t think Harry would have what he would consider a fucking monster cock.
Louis groans loudly at a particularly rough shove at his prostate, burying his face deeper into his pillow. His knees are quite honestly starting to hurt, and Louis thinks that he is ready to get Harry’s cock in his arse. Definitely ready for that to happen.
Louis makes his thoughts known as he untangles his arms to pat lightly at Harry’s hand, trying to gain his attention. But Harry either was too focused to notice Louis’ hand or honestly did not give a shit when and if Louis was going to be fucked. And that really turned Louis on.
Harry leant down to lick around his fingers, taking Louis completely by surprise as his balls tighten up, belly fluttering in what Louis recognizes as his impending orgasm. His body is shaking uncontrollably now, not being able to overcome his desire to come as Harry’s fingers assault his prostate over and over again. Harry must notice the change in Louis’ body, must see the way Louis shakes, and abruptly takes his fingers out of his arse to grip the base of Louis’ cock.
“Mmm, baby, I know you want to come,” Harry whispers as he places a kiss on Louis bum, “But I really would love if you came while my cock is up your arse.”
Louis groans as Harry takes his hand away, orgasm now tamed as Harry grips Louis hips to make him kneel in an upright position, back leaning against Harry’s front. When Louis is up on his knees, Harry reaches his hands down to rip his t-shirt off, hands rubbing down his torso slowly, fingers gently tweaking his small perky nipples.
Louis keens at Harry’s touch, enjoying the soft feel of Harry’s hands against his bare skin, reveling in the feel of Harry’s clothed cock rubbing on his bum. Louis grinds his arse back gently, turning his head around to kiss Harry desperately, tongues moving together at a languid yet heated pace. Harry breaks away from the kiss, licking Louis’ bottom lip as he starts to stand up, taking Louis’ pliant body with him.
Harry spins Louis around to face him, hands resting on the small of his back. He noses at Louis’ cheek gently as he breaths hotly over his skin, “How do you want me to fuck you, Lou? Want me to bend you over the table, hold your hands behind your back, make you fuck back onto my cock until you come? Or would you rather me lay spread out as you ride my cock fast and hard?”
Louis chokes out a moan, looking up into Harry’s eyes as he tangles his hands in Harry’s silky curls, tugging gently as he gets on his tip toes to whisper into Harry’s ear, “I want you to pick me up, want you to slam me into the wall, hold me up with your fucking strong arms and fuck into me fast and hard.”
Harry stills, hands gripping Louis’ back harshly, growl emitting from deep inside his throat as he reluctantly breaks away from Louis grasp. He reaches down to grab the bottle of lube and a condom, walking over to the nearest table and dropping them haphazardly onto the table top. He then stalks on over back to Louis, eyes narrowed dangerously as he zeroes in on him, tongue poking out to lick at his lips. He stops abruptly to slide off his tight pants, cock flying free and landing stiff and wet against his lower abs. Louis absolutely trembles at the sight of it, mind unable to comprehend all that will happen next.
When he reaches Louis he bends down slightly to grasp the back of his thighs, picking Louis up easily, his legs wrapping tightly around his waist and hands gripping the small strands of hair on the nape of his neck. Harry walks over to the wall, pushing Louis against it and pushing his lips onto Louis’, teeth biting harshly at Louis’ bottom lip.
Louis feels electricity course through his veins as Harry’s bare cock drags along his own, rubbing together in a heated grind. Louis shoves his face into the crook of Harry’s neck as he grinds up against his cock, breath coming out in short spurts, body breaking out into goose pimples. His hands grip Harry’s hair hard, tugging every so often to hear the moans that fall out of Harry’s mouth every time he does so.
Harry stops their pace as he gasps out a curse, arm reaching over to the side to grab the condom. Louis then realises that Harry is currently holding him up with only his left arm, grip strong and hard, bicep bulging at the weight. Louis’ breath comes even faster at this little fact, head falling back to hit against the wall. Louis is seriously going to pass the fuck out.
Harry finally rips the condom open with his teeth, throwing the wrapper to the floor, motioning for Louis to slide it on his cock. Louis reluctantly removes is hands from Harry’s hair, slowly rolling the condom on Harry’s cock and tries not to think about the fact that Harry is fucking holding him up against the wall so god damn easily, like he is as light as a feather.
Harry then grabs the lube, pouring a dime sized drop into Louis’ palm, waiting patiently as Louis grips his cock to rub it in. Harry’s breath falters as Louis squeezes at the head, eyes fluttering closed at the hot grip of his hand. He finally comes to when Louis slips his still wet hand back into Harry’s hair, gasping as he says, “God fucking damn, Harold, if you don’t get your dick up my ass in two seconds I swear I will-”
Louis is cut off as Harry pulls back slightly to line the head of his cock against his hole, pushing in slowly. Louis’ breathing hard now, chest caving in at the feel of his tight walls engulfing Harry’s quite lovely and large cock. Louis bucks down when Harry is half way in, the heels of his feet digging harshly into Harry’s lower back.
Harry groans when he’s pushed all the way in, hips moving back to slip his cock out. Louis chokes out a throaty moan as Harry slams back in, the head of his cock nudging at Louis’ prostate perfectly.
Harry repeats this action again and again, driving into Louis fast and hard and hot. Louis is trying his best to fuck himself down onto every single one of Harry’s thrusts, but he loses his mind quickly as Harry’s thrusts slow down to a torturously languid pace.
“Gonna make you come like this,” Harry whispers gently into Louis’ ear, “Gonna fuck you real good and slow, make you feel every single drag of my cock inside of you. Make you feel this tomorrow, make you feel this for the next fucking week. So fucking good Lou, absolutely amazing to be inside of you.”
Louis whimpers Harry’s name lightly, eyes shut tight as he feels the familiar fluttering in his lower belly, his balls drawing up even more than before, cock throbbing painfully against his stomach. He just needs a little push, some type of stimuli that will make him come all over himself, untouched.
“Fucking hell, Louis, everyone should see you like this, face flushed the most beautiful shade of pink, blue blue eyes blown out with lust, hair tousled all over your head. But you wanna know why they can’t see you like this, babe? Because you are mine.” Harry bites down on Louis neck hard, sucking harshly as Louis throws his head back against the wall.
Apparently Louis has a kink for exhibitionism and animalistic cave man possession, because after Harry removes his mouth from his neck with a lick, Louis’ mind blanks out completely, vision whiting out as bursts of colours flash under his eyelids. His skin prickles everywhere, body convulsing as his cock shoots out ribbons of white all along his stomach. His hands tighten in Harry’s hair harshly, fingers digging into his scalp. His hole contracts around Harry’s cock sporadically, going tight as his body quivers from the orgasm washing through his body.
He can vaguely hear Harry’s mumble of “oh fuck, oh Louis, oh shit” as he comes inside of the condom, head tucking into Louis’ neck, biting down harshly into the mark he left on him before. They are both glued in their position for what seems like hours, breathes coming out harshly. Harry finally slips his flaccid cock out of Louis’ arse, gently setting Louis down to stand on his own.
Louis shoves his face in Harry’s chest as Harry removes and ties off the condom, throwing it in the waste bin that is placed conveniently beside the table. Louis wonders if Harry had been planning this all along. Louis thinks his plan was executed quite wonderfully. A+ performance. He thinks he should tell Harry how fucking much he liked his cock up his arse.
“Harold, hello, earth to Harry,” Louis breaths out, looking up at Harry and noticing that his eyes are closed. “Please tell me I didn’t bore you to sleep. That is rather insulting.”
Harry opens his eyes slowly, mouth breaking into a huge grin as he lets out his stupid obnoxious laugh, arms coming around Louis’ neck to hug him closer to his body.
“That was absolutely fucking amazing, babe,” Harry mutters into the crown of Louis’ head, shoving his nose in his hair to sniff him like the fucking oversized cat he is. Well, cat slash giraffe slash butterfly slash yoga boy. Louis needs to stop thinking before he gets a head ache.
“Yes, Harry, it was wonderful. Probably the best yoga lesson I have ever had. Also the only yoga lesson I have ever had.”
Harry pulls back abruptly, a smug look taking over his whole face. Louis scoffs as Harry exclaims that he “knew he was lying about his extensive knowledge of yoga” and pushes him away from his body. Harry pouts and whines about assault, and Louis can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.
Louis was fucked. He knew he was never going to escape the clutches of Yoga Boy Harry ever again.
Louis didn’t really mind it all that much, considering.