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Snap My Spine and Swear That You're Mine

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Harry twirled his resume between his hands, feeling the smooth paper slip between his trembling fingers. He’s always the most nervous before an interview, but he’s never been in an interview that’s promised as much money as the one he was about to walk into.

        A week ago, he was sending resumes far and wide trying to get any job available, as his student-center gig was no longer covering his expenses. Harry emptied his savings account at the cashier’s office, and desperately needed to refill the hole in his account. He was tearing his hair out of his head trying to get into a job that would pay more than minimum wage, so he took to Craigslist to try and find odd jobs in the meantime, hoping for someone who needed their dog walked, or house cleaned for 10 or more an hour. With the help of his friend Niall, he sifted through cheapskates and creepers and found him a few temp gigs that covered groceries and gas. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so when Niall texted him “I found a job for you, I’m not sure what its all gona be, but it pay$ well,” with a link to a listing, he didn’t hesitate to open it. In seconds, his jaw dropped, nearly falling into his bowl of ramen. The listing linked to another website, sleek and black and simple, with “Seeking Personal Companion” printed across the top, and an obscene amount of money in the subtitle.

        Starting at $1,500 a month, with an unspecified increase in the months following, Harry would become a live-in companion to a man named Louis No-Last-Name. There was tiny black-and-white picture of young man, and though it was too small to make out many details, he looked young. As a “personal companion” Harry assumed he would be providing care to an elderly person, maybe reminding them to take their medication or help them use the bathroom, but Louis seemed to be in good health. A reverse image search returned no matches or information on the man, health-related or otherwise. But for 1.5k, he could have been a Klingon and Harry would still have plugged in his information into the contact form.

That night, Harry went to sleep dreaming of everything he could do with that kind of money.

Today though, in front of the door, Harry wondered what the hell he had to offer for that amount. Surely there were other, better, more qualified candidates interviewing, he wouldn't get the job and all his nerves would have been for nothing, but he’d be back where he started, worrying about how he'd pay for the next semesters of school. Harry straightened his back, flicked a wayward curl over his shoulder, and knocked.

Almost immediately, the door flung open to reveal his future employer. Maybe. He looked nothing like the picture. The man in front of him had lighter hair, and rounder eyes, and hand tattoos that were definitely not present in the small black and white image Harry had seen. Regardless, he stuck out his hand to shake.

“Hi, I'm Harry Styles, I have an appointment with… Lewis?”

The man gripped his hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Hello, I'm Liam. And his name is pronounced Lou-ee, don't let him hear you call him that.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry looked down for a moment, thankful that it wasn't Louis who had answered the door.

“Oh, very good!” Liam inexplicably beamed at that, then turned on his heel and marched down the entrance hallway.

Alrighty, Harry thought to himself before following behind him.

At the end of the entrance hallway, on the right was a big niche with a finely carved wooden table with drawers in it, and a coat rack next to it. There was a fun looking denim piece hanging there, but in an effort not to be nosy, Harry didn't stop to look at it.

“Did you want to leave your… homework in the table?” Liam asked politely while motioning to Harry’s hands.

“Oh no thank you, this is my resume.”

“Resume! Ok then.” Liam’s eyebrows had shot up but he didn't offer anything further as he led Harry to the left, where the hall opened into a spacious living room. The furniture was made of and accented by more dark wood; the carpet, a sea of white, but the walls were covered in colorful artwork, both abstract and traditional. On the larger couch, seated right in the middle was a man who looked much closer to the small picture Harry had seen earlier. He was wearing slacks and a button up and a tie, but no jacket. The moment he glanced up at them, Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth dried up at the sight of such a beautiful man. Golden brown hair swept across his forehead in a precise fringe, resting above the bluest set of piercing eyes Harry had ever seen. His sculpted cheekbones pointed inward to lovely thin lips that had Harry reeling. His gaze on Harry seemed to drink him in, observing him from his head to toes, from what he was wearing to the way he stood. Harry had the strangest urge to adjust his posture beneath the beautiful man’s gaze, hoping what he saw was pleasing. He didn't stand, so Harry glanced around the room looking for a wheelchair or cane at the least; maybe his caretaker duties would have to do with increasing his mobility. Harry’s theory hardly lasted a second, because in the next moment the gorgeous man stood, extending a hand to Harry.

“Hello Harry! I’m Louis. Please, take a seat.” Louis’ voice was high and warm, and heavy on the British accent. Harry was two seconds away from swooning.

“Thank you,” Harry said, tucking himself into the armchair diagonal from the couch. He adjusted a pillow and sat in the corner, mindful of the throw pillow’s delicate embroidery, trying not to smash it.

Louis spoke again, “So, Harry Styles, what brings you here today?”

Harry sees Liam move quietly out of the room out of the corner of his eye.

“A close friend of mine knew you needed companionship, and I thought I was well qualified. I love people and am very sociable, have a relatively flexible schedule right now, and have experience babysitting, and some experience volunteering at a hospice,” Harry paused, cheeks flushing, “not that I'm saying you're elderly or need a babysitter! I just, well, you know what I meant. Here- I brought a resume that might help.” He handed over the slightly creased resume to Louis, trying to ignore the spark he felt when their hands brushed. It must be wildly inappropriate to think these things about a potential employer.

Harry watched as Louis scanned the sheets, but he only saw Louis looking more and more perplexed.

“This is all lovely, Harry, but what does any of this have to do with being my sub?”

“Well, you see, it- I'm sorry, a what?”

“A sub. I figured you knew. You called Liam “sir”, deferred to his judgement more than expected, you didn't speak until I did or sit until I said…” Louis trailed off, watching as now Harry became more and more perplexed. “You're very handsome, too, proper dressed up for me!”

“Thank you?” Another pause. “What do you mean ‘my sub’?”

“Oh. Harry… I'm not sure how to phrase this, but the companionship I'm looking for is nothing like what you've put on your resume.”

“But everything there is up to date and-”

“Let me finish.”

Harry instantly fell silent. Louis smiled.

“I'm looking for a submissive, or sub. Like, I'm dominant, and you’d be submissive. Sexually. Are you following so far?”

Harry nodded.

“I'm a very busy man, I'm over stressed and overwhelmed. I don't get to go out and meet people often. I'd like to have someone that, when they're here, I know they're mine, that I can treat proper and give pleasure to, and that they'll trust me to do what's best for them enough that they want to submit to me. I want that control.”

Speechless, Harry nodded again. Harry’s mind had been going a million miles an hour before abruptly stopping on “kinky sex with Louis.”

“I understand if you need a moment, or just want to leave now.” Louis made to stand up.

“No! I mean, I'm not going to leave. I'm, um, open to that?”

“How much do you even know about submissive relationships?”

“Not much, but I'm willing to learn. I've always been a quick learner.” Once again in interview mode, thinking of a paycheck larger than Louis’ enviable thighs, Harry is back on track and speaking confidently, throwing in a wink at the end of his sentence.

“And I'd be more than happy to teach you,” Louis says, licking his lips as he looks Harry up and down again. Still a little surprised, but no longer uncomfortably shocked, Harry preens under the attention, flipping his hair and curling a lock around his finger.

“How soon would you need me?”

“How soon are you available?”

“Whenever you call is fine with me, sir. I feel that the sooner we start, the more I can take in.” Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t eager. Nervous as hell, but eager.

Louis turned his head in the direction of the kitchen, shouting, “Liam! Can you be a doll and bring the paperwork we drew up?”

Liam entered the room with an impressive stack of forms, placing them on the coffee table for Louis to pick up. Addressing Louis, he said, “we still have a few more applicants coming in today, if you wanna wait for-” his warm brown eyes were concerned beneath thick brows, furrowing together.

“Then cancel them, Liam, please, I've made up my mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Okay, Harry, this first page is a simple non disclosure agreement that covers everything we've talked about today. I'm a very private person and I don't want my personal business scattered in the wind. The second is another non disclosure that will cover anything that may come up in the trial period, which is essentially a test run for us, which you’ll be compensated for, of course. If that goes well, I think it will, there will be a third. This sheet,” he rustles the page, “is your actual agreement to employment. Liam calls it overkill but I like to be thorough!”

“Of course, I understand.”

“It basically states the terms of the trial and your employment, to make sure you understand, though there is a lot of legalese in there. This page is about method of payment, so you can put your bank number in for direct deposit or if you prefer a check that's fine too. You stated that you have a clean bill of health on your application, but the next time you come back, I'll need the actual doctors’ papers for a new full sexual health screening, preferably done after today, and any discrepancies are grounds for immediate termination. We are also both going to be taking PrEP, and, barring horrific side effects, not taking it properly may also result in termination.” Louis had thumbed through nearly the whole stack, leaving Harry mesmerized with his spitfire spiel and the way he commanded attention, even when talking about boring technicalities. The last pages in Louis’ hand were printed on pale blue papers.

“And those?” Harry gestured to them.

“Sorry, we can’t touch those until the others are signed, but it’s essentially a list of likes and dislikes as far as, erm, playing and scenes go.” A lovely blush marrs his professional tone, and he follows with, “you can look over the others and sign them now if you’d like, I can step out and get you something to drink?”

Harry nods, already reaching for the other pages. The dense writing doesn’t prove to be much of a challenge, and the legalese is relatively straightforward, but it is plain to see that there is no room for loopholes- not a word of any of Louis’ activities is to leave his home.

Louis comes back with a glass of water for Harry and a pen for him to sign with.

Harry quirks an eyebrow at him. “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Sorry, right, you can take those for your lawyer to look at, sorry-”

“Don't worry, you presumed right. Can't wait to get started.” Harry smirked and grabbed the pen and signed with a flourish on every page. Louis, relieved, smiled gratefully. He did seem almost taken aback by the enthusiasm.

“Now how about the blue ones?”

Louis scooted forward, barely sitting on the edge of the couch, sliding the paper across the edge table, leaning into Harry’s space. He says, “this you can take to finish at home. I don't want you to feel as though you need to answer according to what I want, not for this.”

Harry, looking down from Louis’ intense gaze, scans the top of the page. There’s a long list of kinks and fantasies on the left. Each item has a corresponding “Y/?/N” slightly to the right, and even further right, an empty underline. He moves his hand to point to an item on the list, the one closest to Louis’, and brushes his fingers against his. “So this is… watersports, yes no or maybe… and what's the blank space for?”

“Oh that's on a scale from 1-5 if you say yes or maybe to an item to say how into it you are or might be. So if you circled “maybe” for watersports, and put a 5 in the blank, then you're very interested in trying it. Or if you say yes and put a 1, then that means you'd do it, but it's not your favorite.”

“Oh, well watersports is a no then.” Harry inwardly cringed at the thought of urine and sex being mixed. Perhaps as marking territory it would be okay, but he'd rather put no, especially when he thinks of it near his face.

Louis looked up at him, “did you want to do this now?”

“Yes please, if that’s okay with you.”

Louis handed him a pen.

Over the course of the next 45 minutes or so, Harry and Louis moved down the list, item by item. Louis never once offered his own opinion, but he was always quick with an answer for a term Harry didn't know yet. Some of the list, he had never tried before, but Louis’ explanation piqued his curiosity and had him squeezing his thighs to consciously will away a hard on at the thought of Louis using a spreader bar on him.As a result, much of Harry’s sheet had circled Y’s and maybes on them, with a few N’s in between. There was a whole section on acting like a child, that only took two seconds for Harry to fill in with hard NOs, barely entertaining the thought for more than a moment before he nearly died at the idea of having sex while wearing a diaper. To each their own.

More than anything, Harry was ready to experiment his way through his whole list. For $5,000 a month. Signatures down and papers filed, Harry left the apartment with a list of things to screen for and an official start date for his new job.


Fluorescent lights blared down on a shiny needle and rubber tie, glinting off metal and glass and hard plastic. Harry gripped Niall’s hand as his blood was drawn into six small vials by a heavy-handed nurse. He cringed as she swabbed away at the tiny puncture wound. Niall also diverted his eyes, not loving the fact that he was around needles and blood. Harry dragged him in there with him that morning, arguing that because Niall got him this job he had to be there as moral support for the testing. Harry had initially struggled to think of a way to tell Niall that his new gig required STI screening, but ultimately decided he could trust him. He just hasn’t told him yet.

“Alright hon. We’re just all set!” Her cheery voice didn’t detract from the fact that she had just violently stabbed him and stolen his lifeblood from his very veins.

“When do I get the results?”

“The long form’ll be mailed to you before this Friday. Do  you want a plain bandaid, or green or glitter?”

“Glitter please!”

Niall rolled his eyes as the sliver sparkly bandaid was stuck on Harry’s forearm.

An hour later, in a quiet corner of a cafe, Harry picked at the glitter bandaid as he finally got the nerve to bring up the truth of his new employer with Niall. In their well lit corner of the room, the chatter of the rest of the lunch-goers was distant background noise to their quiet meal. There were twin glasses of orange juice and two plates of bagels between them on a small beige round table. On Harry’s side, half of a shredded napkin was balled up into tiny little pieces, all scrunched up before Harry moved on to picking at his sparkly bandaid.

“Niall, do you know what that job link you sent me was?”

“Well, a family friend works with authors and like, screenwriters and such, and he knows this publisher, Liam Payne, who’s friend needed ‘companionship’? I figured he was old or lonely, maybe? But no, I don’t know. Why? Did you get the job?”

“Yeah I did but-”
“Hey that’s great! Congrats!”


“Holy shit. That’s like, a shitton of money.”

“I know, but Ni, you need to listen.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“It is a shitton of money. But it’s not a lonely old man. Maybe a little lonely. His name is Louis Tomlinson, and he’s young, and British, and really hot. And Niall,” better bite the bullet, “companionship means sex. He wants me to be his submissive”

Niall’s normally pink cheeks are suddenly bright red. He fish-mouths for a little bit, but when Harry starts to talk again, he just holds up a finger to stop him. Finally, he says, “so he’d be like your… dominatrix?”

“Yeah, but a guy. Honestly I'm so glad you already knew what that was.” It spared Harry the embarrassment of trying to put kinks into words in front of his childhood best friend.

“Oh c’mon, like I don't watch porn.” Fair. “Are you going to do it?”

“I already told you I got the job,” Harry says, wrapping a wayward curl around his finger nervously. He worried the end of it, absently thinking of how he’d probably get split ends and how Niall was probably going to dump him as a friend after this.

“Jesus!” Niall exclaimed, his loud voice turning a few heads. When the other tables went back to their lattes and laptops, he turned back to Harry. Harry braced for the worst. “What the hell was that interview like?”

Of all the things Niall could have asked or said, this fell firmly in a safe zone. He didn't storm out disgusted, or yell at him, or vomit all over the table. After the initial outburst, he seemed to be approaching it with curiosity more than shock or revulsion, asking about dommes and the interview process. He was facing Harry, still looking him in the eye. His face was still pretty red, but he seemed to be lacking the denial that Harry was in when Louis told him what he really was interviewing for. This news didn't seem to come out of left field for Niall like it did for him. Harry wondered what the hell Niall’s left field looked like.

“We talked for a bit, and he made sure to explain what exactly the job was, ‘cus I went in there telling him how I babysit and volunteer at hospices.”


“I know. Then I signed some non-disclosure papers that I'm probably totally in violation of right now, and a contract for a month long trial run, and we,” Harry paused, debating whether or not to tell Niall about the list.

“We what?”

Harry lowered his voice, “we generally talked about, like, what I'm comfortable with in bed.”

“Yeah like what?” Niall pressed.

“Like whether or not I'm cool with him sitting on my face, or coming in my ass and then fucking me with a-”

“Alright, enough!” Niall lunged across the small table to slap a hand over Harry’s mouth. His cheeks were slowly returning back to their normal shade of pink, but now they were red once again. Even with Niall, there existed such a thing as TMI. Who knew? “But honestly, Harry, Do you think you can do this?”

Niall’s soft blue eyes were searching his face for any signs of discomfort as Harry thought of how to best answer him. Harry took a deep breath.

“Yes, I can. It’s money like you wouldn’t believe Niall, money that I really need right now. I can do this for that much, and he’s hot anyways. I want to try the things we talked about.”

Niall studied his face for another moment, but relaxed his furrowed brow eventually. Looking satisfied, he leans back.

“Okay. I’m behind you then. Every time you go over to his I want you to text me. I trust my friends but. Still.”

On the outside, Harry is nodding and agreeing to Niall’s terms. On the inside, he's positively melting at his friend’s thoughtfulness. Having known Niall for so long, Harry knows he doesn't take much seriously - that's how Niall gets through life, by letting everything just roll off him- but so far, he's treated every part of Harry’s job hunt with gravity and respect, with the exception of Niall’s initial screw up, which Harry is pointedly ignoring and now trying to forget. It was a mistake on Niall’s part, he should've known how Harry would react. But it's in the past, and Niall has been a gem by helping him, trying to leave behind his spoiled rich-boy habits to help Harry. He’s learning, though. He's figuring out how to be serious AND keep some of his trademark levity, because the last few weeks have been hard on Harry and Niall has always known when he needs to step in and just make him laugh, take his mind off of the soul-crushing debt he almost accrued, off of the daily stressors that plague his immediate life, off of the responsibility of sending money he doesn't have back to a home he doesn't live in.


Harry sped walked down the hall to Louis’ door, boots swishing against the thin carpet. He was nearly five minutes late to his first day at work with Louis. He had been plagued with jitters all week, relaxing only once his clean test results had been officially sent to Louis and he received his in exchange. They were also slightly abated when Niall gifted him with a small pink can of mace he got at a nearby dierbergs. He tied it with a cute purple ribbonHowever, it now seemed that the jitters were making a reappearance, multiplying with every loud knock on Louis’ door. He is moments away from sleeping with Louis, providing the beautiful man a service, and he's hardly in a submissive mindset. More than anything, he's embarrassed at being late.

The door swings open.

“‘Ello love! It's good to see you again.” Louis greets Harry warmly, but his eyes are already giving Harry a hungry once-over. “I can take your coat if you'd like, get settled in before we scene.”

Harry knew from his research (an hour on google that ended with him getting off to bondage porn) that ‘scene’ meant to submit to Louis.

“Thank you.”

“Alright Harry,” he said as they sat on the couches. “This is how this is going to work from here on out. When you arrive, you'll have about five minutes or so to yourself or to come find me to ask any questions if something’s come up. Take off your shoes, be quiet, and don't sit at the dining table. After that, your time is mine. We won't be doing overnights right away, so don’t worry about that just yet. All good?”

“Yeah, um, what do I call you?” Harry asked, trying to get in the right mindset. Louis was in slacks and a button down, but with a tie hanging loosely around his neck, looking absolutely delicious. Even in a relaxed state, he simply exuded confidence and leadership, so Harry tried to let himself sink into Louis’ wake and get pulled along.

“For now, ‘sir’ is good. I like that it’s what you called me at the interview,” Louis said.

Harry perked up, glad that he had already done something right.

“Okay, I can do that.”

“I can do that… sir?”

“Yes, sir.”


“Thank you, sir.” The word felt foreign in Harry’s mouth, tumbling around on his tongue awkwardly. He'd get used to it, though. He had to.

Louis beamed at him for a second before looking lost.

“I feel like I'm forgetting something still, was it…?”

Harry just watched him, unsure of what to say.

“Oh right!” Louis exclaimed, “our safeword! Is ‘marimba’ okay?”

“That's good, sir.”

“Great! Remember you can use it whenever you need, don't forget that, love.”

“I won't.”

“So shall we call this the end of the five minutes or do you need more time?”

“This can be the end. I'm excited to get started with you.”

“Cheeky. I like it.” Louis winked at Harry and moved closer into his space, leaving barely 6 inches between them. This was really happening, it was going to happen. Harry held his breath in anticipation, batting his eyelashes and licking his lips, buzzing with nervous energy, begging Louis to lean in closer. His heart beat harder in his chest, Louis moved to close the gap, Harry shut his eyes and jerked forward-

Only to be met with air.

Harry opened eyes he didn’t even know he shut. Louis pulled back, smirking like an idiot.

“Be a doll and go get undressed in my bedroom. Last door on the left.” As Harry stood, Louis whipped off his tie, wrapping it around his hands tightly. Harry skipped off to the bedroom.

He stripped quickly, divulging himself of every scrap of fabric on his body before folding it neatly in the corner by the door, pink mace laying half forgotten on top of his pants pocket. Harry whirled around to face the neatly made bed and nearly jumped into it, full of energy. He looked down at the wrinkles in the duvet, and oh no, it doesn't look as nice. He fidgeted for a little before hopping out and frantically smoothing it back to the way it looked before.

Was he supposed to stand? Lie down? Go get Louis? He had yet to hear any movement in the hallways and the suspense was killing him, heightening his senses as he waited for the arrival of his dom. As he tucked a stray corner back into the foot of the bed, he had an idea. At the foot of Louis’ bed, at a slightly lower level than the mattress, was a large wooden box, like a flat trunk, presumably for storage. The wood was dark and cool to the touch. Harry gracefully climbed on it, kneeling and lining himself up with the center. He sat back on his heels and placed his hands in his lap, giving his cock a few tugs to get hard. He wanted to be ready when Louis came in. Satisfied, he crossed his hands in front of him, straightened his back, and waited for Louis to arrive.

Long seconds passed with no sign of him. Harry’s hair let a few curls fall loose in front of his face, the rest draping over his shoulders and his arched back, pointing directly to his popped out bum and his upturned hands, ready for whatever Louis wanted to give him. Finally, Louis walked in. Harry had never seen him as more beautiful in that moment. He looked up at him with big green eyes as Louis appraised the sight before him. Before he spoke, Louis ran his finger along Harry’s side.

“Stay still,” he ordered.

His fingers trailed up Harry’s chest. “Such good posture, so beautiful.” His hand moved to his hair, adjusting a wayward lock. “And you stay so still, you're a good listener, Harry.” Harry beamed at the praise. Louis added a hand to his exploratory movements, gently gripping both of Harry’s knees, standing directly in front of him. “And you kneel for me, too,” Louis groaned, lustful eyes disbelieving. Harry silently begged for Louis to touch him, to give him more, something solid he can lose himself in. He felt so satisfied at the praise, so happy that Louis liked what he saw that he was glowing, every cell in his body tuned into making him happy again. He wanted to please him. Louis stroked his hands up Harry’s thighs, skirting over his wrists and stopping at a delicate touch at Harry’s erection. “You're hard for me? Already? God you're so amazing. So perfect for your dom.” Harry didn't know he could even be that hard with such little stimulation, but under Louis’ strong gaze he felt he could do anything.

Suddenly, Louis’ delicate grip turned to a rough stroke, jerking him off with strong motions. Harry moaned and sank into his hold as precome bubbled out of his cock. Louis swiped it over the tip, slicking him up when Harry slouched in front of him, putting his head down. Louis let go of Harry’s dick, clicking his tongue at him.

“Nuh huh, Harry, we don't do that, do we?”

“No, sorry sir,” Harry spoke softly, straightening his spine. Louis resumed his ministrations on Harry’s dick, the other hand once again running along his neck. His gentle touches had Harry struggling to stay still, to be good and follow orders when his thighs were minutely spasming, back muscles twitching to remain upright. Louis small hand worked expertly over his length, paying extra attention to the head, pulling down his wetness to his balls, making a mess of the smooth skin with fondles and precome. The tension in Harry’s balls was building, a tight coil winding up ready to release waves of pleasure. Until now, he had been relatively quiet, but to warn Louis, he bucked up into his hand, twisting his head into his hand.

“Lou-sir, I'm gonna come, sir,” he gasped, grabbing at Louis waist. Louis was still standing, towering over him, but when Harry spoke he crouched down, pulled harry’s hair into a fist, and jerked it up until their eyes met.

“Be. Still.” He surged down and forward, kneeling on the ground, pinning Harry’s hips down, locking them in place as he licked Harry's dick, circling the head with his tongue, wrapping his lips around the shaft. Louis’ mouth was hot and heavy around him, practically drooling on him, dripping spit down his shaft as he bobbed his head up and down. One of Louis’ hands let go of Harry’s hip to circle around the base of his cock, covering the inch his mouth wasn't reaching and Harry once again rolled his hips upward, unable to stop his abs from clenching. His careful kneeling position was falling apart, his ankles having finally slipped out from under his bum, when Louis gripped him with his one hand in a vice-like grip, fingernails carving crescent-moon divots into his soft flesh. Every motion of Harry’s was met with a gloriously painful squeeze, increasing the tension in his gut, increasing the movement, increasing his insatiable need to come. He was caught in a positive feedback loop that had every nerve in his body concentrated on where Louis was touching him. His heart jack hammered in his chest, his arm shot out to grip Louis’ hair. Louis immediately removed his hand from Harry’s cock, slammed it back into place on his hip and held him so tight he would surely have bruises later, before plunging down until his lips met Harry’s groin, nudging his cock on the back of his throat, tight muscles working around his cock. Harry came with a hoarse scream ripped from his throat, barely breathing, head thrown back, body arching and rigid as a board as his hot come pulsed down Louis’ throat, every last drop being pulled from his body by Louis’ talented mouth.

He struggled to catch his breath, Louis still sucking around his spent cock, fingers still pressing into his muscles, sending electric shocks through his body. He finally was able to move his legs, and when he did, they felt like they weren't attached to his body, like they were light and floating, and the pleasure of unfolding relaxed him.

Just as the combination of the licking at his softening dick and the strong grip on his sides threatened to become too much, Louis pulled off and let go.

Harry shifted in his seat, enthralled by a drop of his come that had made it into Louis lip, reflecting light on his swollen mouth. He became acutely aware of how undressed and debauched he was, of how Louis was still half dressed, of how Louis was still looking at him and he hadn't even moved yet. Louis sat next to Harry, finally on his level. They met eyes. Louis gripped Harry's jaw firmly, a far cry from the tantalizing touches of just a few moments prior.

“You are so beautiful, Harry, you tried so hard for me and did so good, Louis murmured into his ear, breath blowing across curly locks. Harry leaned forward, feeling brave and elated at the praise and caught Louis’ lips in his own. He could taste the faint bitter taste of his own come on Louis’ mouth, on his tongue. He did good. Harry deserved this kiss. He deserved Louis winding his hands in his hair, he deserved a tongue exploring his mouth, and he deserved the way Louis was leaning so far forward into Harry that his body was nearly covered by the smaller man. He earned the comforting weight on top of his spent body. From Louis lips to his ears, he did good.

“Harry,” those lips moved again, “get on the bed.” Louis shoved him backwards, releasing his jaw. Harry half fell and half scooted onto the bed, legs spread as his heels dug into the duvet. His heart had just started to slow down, and he was just starting to get feeling back in his toes when Louis was back between his thighs, shoving a quick fingertip in his hole. He was tender, dry and unprepared, but Louis continued, eyes fiery, eager. Harry soft cock twitched and he let out a breathy moan. Louis moved off of him, jumping off the bed.

“Get hard again while I go get supplies, please love.”

Harry bit his lip and nodded. Louis disappeared into the en suite bathroom, rustling around in the cabinets. Harry gently trailed his hand along his cock again, trying to coax it back to to full hardness. He was partially succeeding. Feeling the wetness leftover from Louis’ mouth gliding under his fingers as he stroked his balls brought him back, tip of his cock flushed red with sensitivity. His balls felt swollen and drained at the same time, conflicting feelings coursing through his body, aching for Louis to come back, to clear them up and make Harry feel however he wanted.

As if summoned, Louis appeared in the doorway with condoms and lube and a hungry look in his eyes that echoed the hungry way his own cock was straining at his briefs. Louis knelt in between Harry's spread legs, admiring the smooth skin on either side of him. Goosebumps ran up and down Harry's body when Louis gaze turned to his hole, small and pink and so tragically empty.

Louis coated his fingers with lube and snuck his hand between Harry's legs, skirting past his dick to nudge at Harry's entrance. He leaned forward to hover over Harry to kiss him, lips gentle on his mouth as he lowered his chest to press flush with Harry’s, hearts thumping loud between them, all the while keeping his hand between Harry's legs. Harry could feel his finger pushing inwards and upwards, entering his hole and diving into a rapid search for his prostate, relentlessly jamming into him, spreading him open as he went. He added a second without warning, scissoring them open as they moved in and out of Harry.

“Oh god, Louis, slow down, I-” Harry whined.

Louis did pause, stilling his hand as pressing kisses to the underside of Harry's jaw. Harry felt his hot breath on his neck when he spoke.

“Slow down? Is that really what you want? I think you can take it.’ Louis’ lips dragged slowly along his neck. His finger in Harry had stopped completely, but Harry was minutely grinding his hips onto Louis’ finger. His desperate motions did not go unnoticed. “I'm not so sure…” he dragged his finger out incredibly slowly, and Harry felt every centimeter of the drag inside of him, “... but if that's what my baby wants.” He thrusting motion turned into more of a slow massage, rolling and rubbing against his velvety walls. Harry reveled in the feeling of being touched and stroked so tenderly, throwing his head back against the duvet. He caught his breath.

Louis’ fingers finally inched over his prostate, running along the soft area persistently and torturously slowly. His legs were twitching at the constant stimulation as his hole clenched around Louis. His breath was once again being punched out of him, lungs tightening as every part of Louis’ skilled hands worked at a glacial pace. He felt himself reaching his climax, overwhelmed with pleasure that was ramping up with every added second. Every time he thought he could come the pleasure just built up instead of releasing.

“Sir, please I need more.” Harry released a breathless whine. He saw Louis trying to rip open a condom rapper with one hand, but missed the movement Louis made to put it on.

“More? But you just asked me to slow down, remember that, baby?” he chastised.

“Yes but I changed my mind, sir, please.”

“Why’s that?” Louis raised an eyebrow at him, scanning him up and down as if he couldn't see exactly why Harry needed him to speed up, to give it to him so hard it hurt, until all he can say is Louis’ name.

Harry is full on whining, voice rising and breaking in continous rounds.

“Sorry sir I lied, you were right Louis, please, go faster, I can take it, I want it, gimme what-- hnnngh-- you want. I need you to fuck me hard like only you could, I need your cock.”

His words finally seemed to have an effect on Louis, who gripped him under his thighs, clawing into the milky flesh there. Harry’s knees were pressed back into his chest in an instant. Louis had himself propped up at the same angle that was already sliding over his prostate but was now thrusting at a breakneck pace, hip bones ramming up against Harry, balls to his ass, chest between harry’s legs, and lips swallowing every exhale Harry releases. Louis bit Harry’s lips; two seconds later, Harry came.

His abs clenched when he came, cum slowly dropping out of his spent cock, landing hotly near his belly button. Harry opened eyes he hadn't known he had shut, not entirely surprised to find that they were wet, his lashes soaked and tears making their way down his cheeks. He wailed as Louis continued to pound into him, clenching tightly around Louis with every sob, and reached his arms around Louis’ back to hold him in place, into a deep grind that made him cum deep inside Harry, groaning near-incoherent praises into his neck.

Harry inwardly sighed, relieved Louis was finally done, unsure he could've taken anymore of the raw heat and building pleasure.

Louis slid out of him with surprising gentleness, wincing when Harry made a face at the sensation. Louis’ hand brushed across Harry’s chest, feeling cool against his sweaty skin. Harry watched as Louis hopped off the bed and disposed of the condom. Harry scooted up towards the headboard. He suddenly felt awkward through the post-sex glow. Does he get off the bed and leave? He doubts they're doing an overnight on the first time, so he can leave at the end of his ‘shift’, but how much time has actually passed? Does Louis want him to clean him up, change the sheets, do a subservient routine? Harry's not sure of anything, these questions overwhelming him, giant and insurmountable, one after the other until his already fuzzy mind is drowning in them, body frozen halfway up the bed, not wanting to do anything wrong. He scoped out his clothing, trying to calculate how quickly he could put it on if he was kicked out one-night-stand style. A quiet graceful exit was his goal.

Without noticing he was even moving, Harry had grabbed a tissue of the bedside table, and went to wipe off the stickiness from his stomach.

“What do you think you're doing?” Louis’ voice rang clear and soft in the large master bedroom.

Harry froze. He was asked a question but didn't know what the right answer was.

Louis’ face softened and, as if realizing Harry’s uncertainty, ordered him to “drop the tissue and lie down comfortably.”

Harry got back on his back, this time making sure he had a pillow well adjusted under his neck.

Louis sat next to him and wiped at his stomach with a wet cloth. He folded it and moved downwards, gently rubbing his legs, kneading at his sore knees and calves.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No, thank you.”

Harry hummed in response.

“I think you're gonna be really good at this Harry, I promise you'll get the hang of it.” Harry tilted his head back into Louis shoulder, nuzzling him.

“Today was good. Thanks sir.” He paused. “I'm sorry I started crying.”

“Don't apologize! It was perfect, so fucking perfect. You looked so ruined, and let me ruin you,” he paused, “unless you don't like that you cried? I understand you're new at this still, but crying happens for some people when submitting. Letting go of control and feeling a lot can be… a lot,” Louis finished rather simply, and Harry simply stared at him, saying nothing. “Tell me what you thought of that. You can be a sub and still have opinions. I want you to have opinions.”

Harry mulled it over for a moment, finally settling on, “a good cry is refreshing.”

“You're so perfect”, Louis mumbled while still massaging his legs. “Soon we’ll get up and shower, and you can go home. For now, let me do this.” He added a washtowel to the gentle massage

Harry was once again glowing from the praise, feeling lit from within. He felt the bruises and sore spots in his body and reveled in them, in the way his thighs were so tender where they touched. Large movements blessed him with a reminder that Louis had been there, that Harry had done his job and let Louis take him. He did something good. That's all he ever wanted.



Harry sat in his art history lecture, trying to hide his phone behind his giant textbook and take notes at the same time. His online banking app was open and refreshing every minute displaying a spinning loading sign that drew Harry's eyes to his screen. Today was payday, and his direct deposit was due any minute now.

It hadn't yet been a month since Harry began working under Louis, but as per Liam's suggestion, Harry was being paid a partial amount for the first two weeks in a combination down payment and show of good faith from Louis. He was anxious to see the money come through and excited to see his balance go from overdrafted to over a grand. Harry had about 24 hours left before he was charged an overdraft fee for the previous night’s festivities. He and Niall went out and toasted to “the last damn time you've got a negative balance.” It was probably stupid of him to purposefully spend that much, but Harry was high on the knowledge that the next day he'd have more than enough enough to cover it, and relished in not mooching off Niall for a couple drinks during happy hour.

As the professor rambled on about early Christian mosaics, Harry’s screen changed. His frantically writing pen screeched to a stop and his hand hovered over his phone, hiding the screen from any wandering eyes.

His own eyes drank in his new balance as a smile spread across his face. Harry hid his dimples behind his textbook and kept writing.



In the past weeks, Harry had grown to look forward to his time in Louis’ home and in his bed. Louis was a kind soul, and an excellent Dom. Harry was adapting to Louis’ rules well.

Harry entered Louis’ apartment, Louis nowhere to be seen. He placed his bag gently in the corner of the foyer. He brought overnight supplies for the first time, his canvas duffel stuffed with spare towels, his favorite shampoo, two different lubes, a stupid amount of condoms, and a pajama set still wrapped up that Louis gifted him for the occasion the day before. He assumed he had an extra five minutes to settle due to Louis being out of the house, but he felt he didn’t need them. He was well prepared for the night ahead, nerves calmed by excitement and anticipation.

Harry removed the gift box from his bag. It was tied with a large blue paper ribbon, bold and curly. Harry’s gift was taken home with him with instructions not to open it until the next day, no matter how tempted. Louis swore he’d know if he had opened it, though how he would know was beyond Harry. The 24 hours of anticipation had built up in Harry as his excited hands ripped into the bow and wrapper. The box was embossed with Agent Provocateur in a curling black script, skirting under Harry’s fingers as he flips the lid off. With the wrapping paper opened, Harry removed a gorgeous scarlet floral lingerie set. There was a delicate thong panty, red flower lace shapes hanging down around the waistband. The crotch was a thin, sheer, material that Harry knew would do little to cover his dick. The back was a thin red ribbon. The bra was made of the same sheer material, with the same hanging flowers flowing along the band, and reproduced on either cup were two more, covering the nipples. Two sheer stockings and a suspender belt were included.

Harry, surprised at the supposed “pajamas”, bundled everything into his arms and scurried into the bathroom as if to hide them away. Instead, he stepped into the delicate outfit, relishing in the stark contrast of the red against his pale skin, the floral appliques tickling his ribs, the mesh gently cradling his cock. He looked in the mirror and saw the definition of rich. The scarlet against his pearlescent skin, the fine clothing caressing him, the level of care and detail that went into a garment meant to dress a person being paid to fuck. In a moment, it overwhelmed Harry. With a second look at how the suspender cinched in his waist, the moment passed. Harry shook his butt at himself, packed up the wrapping, and returned to the living room to wait for Louis’ arrival. He looked irresistible and he knew it.

Harry’s self indulgent lounging took on a more presentational turn when he heard a key shoving into the lock. He spread his legs a little, straightening his back on the cushions. Louis entered and glanced at Harry.

“Hey, Harry.” His voice was familial and cool. He didn’t even acknowledge Harry wearing his gift at all.

“Hello, sir.” His voice was still peppy, excited for their scene. Louis sat down at the kitchen table and called for Harry to come. There were two glasses of water sat in front of them. Harry waited for Louis to take the first sip before he started on his own. The room was strangely quiet, nothing but the sounds of them swallowing echoing between them. Harry waited for Louis to say something, to compliment his look, to criticize it, to do anything but let his eyes slide over him as if there was nothing special.

And perhaps Harry knew there was nothing special about him tonight. Sure, he was dressed-- or rather, undressed-- to the nines, but all he had done was follow orders. He didn’t go above and beyond at all. He was average. If that. Average would have had Louis fawning over him, praising him and commanding his pleasure. Unsure of what to do, Harry sat still. He attempted not to fidget, and mostly succeeded. He crossed his legs below the table, appreciating the soft shifting of the fabric he wore. His toes barely brushed Louis’ ankle.

“So, how was your day?”

“Good, sir, and yours?”


Harry flinched.