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Let's Get It On

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No.

Piss off, Henry.

This song and dance has worked after previous fights, but that doesn't mean that it will today. Louis is still slightly pissed. And busy. So just. No.

Of course, the music doesn't stop which doesn't necessarily surprise Louis. But it does infuriate him.

Harry is infuriating. The universe has been duped, charmed by dimples, that voice and fancy Gucci trousers. Rock and roll prodigy, his arse. Louis is actually engaged to the world’s biggest dork. He wonders what Harry's fans would think if they'd seen him earlier that day. In his ripped shirt and boxers. Compulsively cleaning out their closet for the fifth time that week.

He color coded Louis’ shirts for god’s sake. It was extremely extra, but Louis was used to extra. This was Harry, after all. Organizing Louis’ ~already organized~ shirts wasn’t the problem. That was fine. Throwing away Louis’ favorite pair of vans, though?

Unacceptable.

“Louissss. Please don't be mad. They just. They smelled so bad, babe.” He’d pouted at Louis, getting no response, so he kept going, tripping over his words the whole way. “I tried washing them.”

Louis had glared at him in disgust.

“Five times, Lou! I washed them five times. Our clothes were starting to smell. Please don't be mad at me, babe.” Harry had pleaded with him. Pouting again with that pathetic baby face that Louis almost always gave into. But not this time.

“You had NO right Haz!” He'd yelled, enraged. “I loved those shoes!”

“I’ll buy you another pair! I'll ask Oli to call Vans tomorrow! I can fix this!”

“That's not the point, Henry! You can't just replace them! They had sentimental value! You had no right!” For some reason, Louis called Harry ‘Henry’ when they fought. Perhaps childish, but it worked like a charm, riling him up and it was better than ‘wanker’ which was Harry’s chosen one for him.

“I'm sorry…” Harry had tried to reason with him again, not even trying to fight back, but it fell upon deaf ears. Louis was already halfway through the door, storming away angrily.

Those Vans might've been ages old and he would admit that they hadn't smelled so nice, but those weren't just shoes to Louis. Harry obviously didn't remember that they contained a hidden love letter. Which possibly hurt more than the fact that he'd binned them in the first place.

After taking swigs from a shared bottle of bubbly, they were both pretty tipsy the day Harry took it upon himself to “decorate” them. An H written in black sharpie on the inside of one. A heart drawn on the inside of the other. And a small L on the bottom of the same shoe. All scribbled in places that no one would see. Like a secret code. He'd finished off his declaration on the top of one of the toes. A smiley face for everyone to see. Because smiley faces were safe. No need to hide those away.

Louis’ heart had taken off at triple speed that day. They'd never said those words before. He'd thought it, of course. Thought it so many times. Felt it beating as sure as his own heart inside his chest. But they hadn't actually said it.

So it had mattered to Louis. It was important.

Perhaps the written declaration shouldn't have meant so much to him, but it did. It had. And now it was forever gone.

Louis could've been honest with him. Told him how much he treasured those shoes and why. But how could he when Harry didn't even remember drawing on them. Louis felt embarrassed for feeling so much. To tell him would feel like laying himself bare and he felt too exposed already. Raw.

So he'd gotten irrationally angry instead.

He'd seen Harry's lip turn down as he backed out of their bedroom and felt a twitch bad about it. Not bad enough to come back, though. He just needed a little space to clear his head. And then everything would be fine again.

Determined to work past it, he'd made his way to their studio. There, he could twist his feelings into words which counted for something more than anger and hurt. It’s what he did. What they did. How they’d learned to cope through the years.

That had been a few hours ago. He's enjoyed the quiet in his sanctuary, spinning words into potential lyrics, allowing himself ample time to calm down.

Some residual anger remains, but he's feeling better now. Still, Louis can't help feeling the loss of such an important memory. Surely Harry didn't do it on purpose. Even so, Louis isn’t ready to see him yet. Not ready to fully let it go.

So when their speaker system crackles to life and music starts playing, Louis startles in his chair, groaning out loud. He should've expected this. Should have seen it coming.

He knows his boy better than anyone. Much like Louis, Harry hates when they argue. The stress of it eats away at him until he finally cracks, desperate to make things right between them again. And Harry's got exactly one signature bit to get them there. So it's pretty clear what's coming in three...two…

Right on time. Harry slides straight past the open door of their home studio. In socked feet. Predictable dork.

Louis loves him so much that his heart skips a beat. Still. After all these years. Despite the shadow of his anger which still lingers in the recessed corner of his mind.

Louis bites his lip to prevent a smile from cracking through. Though he realizes his reaction was over the top, he refuses to cave. Harry is ridiculous. He is .

Speaking of… Harry’s head tips backwards into the doorway and two seconds later, his entire body follows. He narrowly misses crashing into the steel frame, catching it with his hand just in time. Baby deer legs . It's amazing he lasted so many years on stage without a more serious injury.

A stupid cheshire grin lights up Harry's face as he begins his serenade. God dammit, his dimple is out. Louis is screwed.

This is not endearing. It's not, he reminds himself .

“I've been really tryin’ baby.”

“Harry, no.”

“Tryin’ to hold back this feeling for so long now.”

“I'm working.”

“And if you feeeel. Like I feel, babyyy.”

“Babe.” Louis sighs, resigned. He pushes his chair back until it hits the wall, leans back as far as possible and pinches the bridge of his nose. He's actually engaged to this man. A sexy musical nerd.

Harry remains in the doorway, hip popped out, peering at Louis over the top of his white alien sunglasses as he belts out more words. He's got a wireless mic in his hand, thank god for small favors. Because much like slippery floors, wires have proven themselves a challenge to Harry.

A crisp white button down shirt hangs loosely over his chest showcasing his butterfly and laurels. It's fully unbuttoned because of course it is. The shirt is kissing the top of his thighs, partially concealing a pair of white cotton bikini briefs. Tight ones. They don't fully cover Harry's bum. Louis can't see yet, but he knows.

Louis has seen this outfit more times than he can count. It's a favorite of Harry's. A modified Tom Cruise a la Risky Business if you will. The shirt being unbuttoned makes it so much better. Right Lou? Don't you think so, Lou?”  

Ridiculous boy. And all Louis’. He knows he's lucky, but Louis is angry, dammit. Maybe not so much anymore, but he had been mere moments ago. So Harry can't just come sliding in here with those legs and that dimple expecting everything to be fine!

Plus, he’d finally been onto something lyrically. After being blocked the last few days. So much for being productive.

This song always ends the same way,  though, so there's really no use pretending. His heart picks up speed with anticipation, his cock already twitching with interest.

That doesn't mean that Louis won't make him work for it.

“Then c’mon. Ohhh, c’mon. Let's get it onnn”

He rolls his eyes at Harry dramatically. This is familiar. They're dancing now.

Harry whips his sunglasses off, tossing them behind him without a single care. Hopefully they didn't break or Lottie's gonna be pissed. She's been waiting for Harry to tire of them for a while now.

Louis looks down at his laptop at the line he'd just jotted down. I went to Barcelona without you. All I could do was think about you.

Refusing to give in too soon, he lets his gaze drift to the floor rather than up to his boy’s face. Otherwise it'll be game over instantly. Still, from the corner of his eye, he can see Harry advancing towards him. His legs are coming closer. And closer.

Fuck. They're stupid long. Not to mention gorgeous. Porcelain white with a dusting of dark hair covering strong muscles. Louis can see them flexing underneath his skin. And fuck. He wants to touch them so badly.

Wants to dig his fingers into them. Squeeze them until Harry whines pathetically, his sounds echoing off the studio walls. Dammit. He hates being this easy.

“Ahh baby.”

He's shimmying. Unfair. Though trying his hardest not to, Louis still sees him. He averts his eyes towards the ceiling instead, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest.

It's to no avail though. Louis’ chair dips under the added weight of Harry as he climbs into it. He's on him now, knee pressing into the seat between his legs. Louis can smell him. Strawberries and vanilla. He squeezes his eyes shut, inhaling his scent.

“Let's get it on.”

At the sound of the mic hitting the floor his eyes open again. Harry's gonna regret that later, Louis is one hundred percent sure of that. His overly conscientious boy.

He doesn't seem phased at the moment though. Harry's everywhere all at once. His fingers lace through Louis’ as he leans further into his space. There's nowhere for Louis to go. There's the wall behind him. And there's his boy in front of him. No contest really.

Strawberry, vanilla, and the bright green of his eyes. Plush pink lips, wet from licking them. Harry lowers them to the shell of Louis’ ear.

“Let’s love, baby.” The words a whispered promise caressing his sensitive skin. Louis takes a deep breath in. He can feel Harry's lips curving into a smile against his neck.

“Let’s get it on, sugar.”

Fuck. Harry knows what pet names do to him. Fucker.

Harry raises their joined hands above their heads and presses them against the wall, leaning the hard planes of his chest further into Louis’ body. He can feel the pounding of Harry's heart through his t-shirt and laments the fact that he's not naked yet.

“Let’s get it on.”

The words brand themselves into Louis’ skin, burning him. His clothes feel itchy suddenly. The need to touch is overwhelming, but he can't. Not while he's being held down like this.

The room has turned into a sauna when moments ago, it had been cool enough for a sweater. A shimmer of sweat breaks out across his brow as Harry's teeth sink into the delicate skin behind his ear. Louis’ hips lift from the chair automatically, an airy moan filling the space where there had just been song.

The music continues to play in the background, but Harry's no longer singing. Instead, he's swiveling his hips in tiny figure eights, rubbing their clothed cocks together as he hums along to the words Louis knows by heart.

They're face to face. Not exactly kissing, but panting arousal into one another's mouths. Harry's eyes are blown wide open, dark green peeking out from along the edges.

Louis loves when they get this way. When what starts off light turns heavy all of a sudden. It feels like Harry's staring directly into Louis’ soul. He can't look away. Doesn't want to.

Pushing his hips up again, he rubs himself shamelessly against Harry's cock, searching for friction. A bead of sweat from his brow trickles down the side of Louis’ cheek and Harry leans forward to lick it off of him.

It's a lot. And Louis loves him so much it hurts. He grinds into Harry once more and is rewarded with Harry ripping Louis’ shirt over his head in one fluid movement. He has no time to process that or the fact that Harry's shirt has joined his in pile on the floor because Harry's hand is back already, pinning his own to the wall.

With the layers between them gone, their bare chests finally glide against one another. Home, Louis sighs, contented. It's comical that he thought he could deny this boy. That's clearly out the window now.

Harry senses his surrender and leans forward to capture Louis’ lips between his own.

The room is filled with the pornographic sounds of their pleasure mixed with Marvin Gaye's famous words. Which are starting again?

Louis pulls back to look at Harry curiously.

“I put it on repeat,” Harry answers him with a breathless giggle with tapers off to a hopeless whimper as Louis leans forward, nipping lightly across Harry’s collarbone.

 

“You're ridiculous.”

“Heyyyy. I didn't know how long it would take you to forgive me.”

“Ridiculous.” Louis leans down slightly to bite Harry's left nipple.

“Ahhhhh,” Harry cries out. “Least I'm not easy.”

Harry's teasing him and Louis loves a challenge. He’ll show him who's easy. He bites Harry’s right nipple harder than the left, relishing his wanton cries. Pushing up as much as he can whilst being held captive, he latches onto Harry's Adam's apple, sucking hard.

“Wanna fuck you over the control boards.” He tells Harry between sucks, smiling when his fingers squeeze Louis tightly in response.

“Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Want that too.”  Louis can feel the length of Harry's cock pressing through their pants, which have yet to be discarded. He's already rock hard. And he said Louis was easy.

Louis grins into Harry's neck before continuing to lick and suck at the same spot. The skin beneath his tongue is growing hotter from his ministrations. Louis can taste the saltiness on his tongue.

“Gonna have to release me then.” Louis instructs whilst thrusting their clothed cocks against one another, a promise for what's to come. In a flash, his hands are free. His boy’s a very good listener when properly motivated.

Now that he's able, he presses the palms of his hands against Harry's chest, pushing Harry up from the seat and following him until he's backed up against the front of the control board.

Harry's breath hitches when Louis palms him through his briefs. So Louis tickles his balls for good measure too. Exactly the way his boy likes.

“You were bad, Haz.”

Harry bites his lip, nodding along in agreement. His eyes are hooded. He looks destroyed and Louis has barely touched him yet.

“I should punish you.”

“Yeah.” Harry breathes out softly, overwhelmed.

“Well I would, but you'd probably like it too much. So instead?” Louis pauses for effect. “I'm gonna fuck you bent over these controls.”

“Yeah. Fuck me. Want you to.”

“I bet you do,” Louis replies, tucking his finger just inside the waistband of Harry's briefs, dragging it lightly across the skin there. Harry shivers from his touch, but doesn't answer him, just hums quietly in agreement.

“Hmmm. But I wonder…” Louis trails off and takes a step back from Harry, fixing him with a look.

Harry straightens up and makes a move to follow him. “Don't move.” Louis tells him firmly.

Harry freezes.

Louis watches him thoughtfully for a moment before pushing his own pants to the ground with his boxers. His cock bounces against his belly, hard and wet at the tip. Harry watches the movement intently, his hands clenched tight by his sides. He wants to touch Louis.

But he knows better than to ask. Good boy , Louis thinks. He's so good for Louis.

Louis swipes his finger over the tip of his cock, gathering the precome and then takes a step towards Harry, offering it to him. Harry's eyes grow even darker as he wraps his lips around Louis’ finger eagerly, humming around it as if he's given him the most decadent of chocolates.

He lets him suck on it for a few seconds and then taps gently on his cheek. Let go. Harry releases the digit with a whimper and Louis steps back from him again.

“Don't move.” He instructs him again before turning to walk out of the studio. This is the one space in their house that they hadn't hidden a bottle of lube. Louis makes a mental note to take care of that the next day. But for now he walks with an extra swing of his hip, confident that Harry's eyes are on his ass.

He smiles when he hears Harry whimpering behind him as he moves further away, pleased that he's correct. And he then proceeds to take his sweet time retrieving a bottle of their favorite lube and some other supplies. The wait will make it better, he tells himself . Always does.

When he returns, it's to find Harry in the exact same position, back against the controls, hands clenched into tight balls by his sides. His cheeks are flushed, breathing labored and those briefs look… uncomfortable. His dick is straining against the white cotton, pushing the waistband from his belly just slightly, allowing space for his dick to poke through the top.

Louis stands in the doorway for a moment, appreciating the view, before taking his own cock into his hand. He tugs on it slowly. Deliberately. Watching as Harry's eyes remain glued to the movement.

After a few pulls, he whines, “Louis, please,” through gritted teeth. And Louis isn't a complete dickhead so he complies, stalking towards him slowly, licking his lips as he approaches.

As soon as he reaches Harry, he drops the supplies to the ground and leans in for a kiss that's not even a little gentle. Licking deep into Harry's mouth, he tastes remnants of coffee and mint. Delicious.

Louis keeps at it for a while, alternating between fucking his mouth with his tongue and biting his now cherry stained lips, darkened from the attention. His hands find their way to the top of Harry's briefs and he snaps the waist gently, knowing how it will feel against Harry's sensitive cock.

“Fuck.” Harry exclaims, hips jolting into Louis in response. So Louis snaps it again. A little harder this time.

Then he bites his plush bottom lip again, pulling back from his mouth to whisper in his ear. “What if we recorded this?”

“Just sound.” Louis assures him, when Harry's breath catches in response.

“Wanna hear the noises you make for me, baby. Wanna hear what it sounds like when I fuck you to your song. Wanna be able to hear them again the next time we're apart. Wanna be able to get off on the sounds we make together.”

Harry groans low and filthy. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do it.” Harry relents, clearly overwhelmed with images of Louis pulling one off to this pornographic soundtrack. So Louis kisses him even harder, thrilled with the prospect of what they're about to do.

Tangling his fingers through the longer pieces of Harry's hair, he gives a firm tug, tilting his head back, eliciting a filthy groan from deep in the back of Harry's throat. Louis wishes that he'd started recording so he could have captured it.

Unwilling to miss another noise, he reaches around Harry, flicking a few switches. He smiles when the recording light glows red, pleased with himself for being able to multitask under these conditions.

“Turn around, baby.” His words brush against the shell of Harry's ear. He knows what that spot does to his boy.

“Mmmkay.” Harry slurs back, but makes no attempt to move.

Louis bends down to bite one of Harry's nipples, grinning into it as Harry cries out. That's going to sound amazing later. It sounds like heaven to his ears now.

“Turn around, baby.” He instructs once more, stepping back to give Harry space to maneuver. This time he obeys, turning so he's facing the control panel.

Louis’ eyes move towards the controls, checking to see that the light’s still on. It is, so he immediately shifts his gaze to Harry's back instead. His broad shoulders are an illusion of sorts. It's not that he's not strong because he is. Harry's so much more than that, though. They lead the way to miles of ivory skin, a trim waist, soft hips. So soft.

He's strong, but gentle. Firm, but soft. And above all, beautiful. Louis could write sonnets about his back. Maybe he will someday.

Later.

Stepping back into Harry's space, he places one of his palms to the center of his back and pushes him down gently until his body forms a sharp angle, his forearms resting on top of the controls.

Louis isn't a complete monster so he grabs the towel he'd brought with him, folds it in half so it's thicker and wiggles it in between Harry’s arms and the buttons.

Then he promptly drops to his knees behind his boy. He's eye level with too tight white briefs that barely cover his peachy arse cheeks. For a moment he watches Harry's muscles twitch. It's hypnotizing, really.

“Lou,” Harry whines from above him. But Louis won't be rushed. Harry's the one who put this song on replay. Surely he didn't expect a quickie.

Louis grabs Harry's cheeks in his hands and squeezes. Leaning forward, he runs his nose over the crease in the briefs, inhaling deeply. He smells rich here, a combination of musk, soap and boy. Harry's legs tremble as Louis inhales again, digging his fingers into his arse cheeks at the same time.

“Please,” the raspy whisper can barely be heard over the background music. Still, he hears it and smiles as he nips Harry through his briefs.

Hooking his hands in the waistband, Louis rolls the briefs down painfully slow, savoring the way Harry's body responds to his touch. Always so responsive, his boy. It's a heady feeling, being able to affect him this way.

When he finally removes them fully, he palms Harry's arse cheeks again, this time massaging them firmly with intention. His fingers dig in, pulling them apart so he's able to ghost his warm breath over Harry's pink hole.

He carries on, until Harry's voice cuts through the song, “Please, Lou. Stop. Teasing me.”  It's a raspy plea and Louis takes pity on him. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss directly against Harry's hole, then flattens his tongue, licking a broad stripe from his opening straight down to his balls. Then immediately drags his tongue back up as he follows the reverse path.

After a few passes up and down, with Harry drowning out the music with his loud groaning, Louis knows it's time. Reaching down, he grabs the lube that he'd dropped beside them and flicks the cap open. He quickly coats three of his fingers and circles Harry's opening with them, applying pressure a hair’s breath from where Harry wants him to be.

“Louis, I swear to fucking god.” Harry swears, frustrated and a trembling mess. So Louis pushes one of his fingers against his rim, teasing him for one last second before finally pushing inside.

“Yes,” Harry exhales softly, pushing his arse back as best he can from this position and fucking himself on Louis’ finger. “Another.”

“Greedy,” Louis pinches one of Harry's cheeks, smiling as Harry clenches around him.

“Come on Lou.” Harry whines pitifully. And Louis loves this.  Loves that he can reduce Harry to this. To pure hunger and need. He adds a second finger beside the first and curls them up just slightly, aiming for the bundle of nerves that will send Harry spiraling.

It takes a few thrusts of his fingers before he hits it, but once he does, there's no mistaking it. Harry releases a high-pitched wail and pushes back even more desperately now. There's a sheen of sweat broken out across his back and Louis leans in to lick some of it away. He can't help himself.

“Another,” Harry demands, his voice even more wrecked. Louis withdraws his fingers and immediately pushes back inside with three slick fingers. He scissors them right away, stretching him because Harry can't wait any longer and truth be told, neither can Louis.

After working a generously lubed hand over his own cock, he pulls his fingers from Harry's body and rises from the floor. With one hand, he grips Harry's hip firmly, holding them both steady. Grounding them. His other arm wraps around Harry's chest pulling him flush against his chest, their bodies aligned from top to bottom. Like this, he can run his nose along the back of his neck, scenting him.

Rising to his tippy toes, he slides his cock up and down Harry's crack, inhaling deeply. All boy. Salty sweat with a hint of sweet. Delicious. With one little nip to the juncture of his shoulder and neck, he pushes Harry back down so that his cheek rests sideways against the towel cushioned controls.

“Fuck me.” Harry chokes out.

Louis doesn’t respond. Just pushes inside his tight heat. He doesn't pause to allow for adjustments, just continues to push inside slowly, inch by inch until his balls slap against Harry's arse.

When he bottoms out, he pauses to catch his breath, but Harry isn't having it. “Move,” he demands, body shaking and glistening beneath him.

Louis answers him by giving him exactly what he wants. He pulls all way out and pushes straight back in aiming for Harry's prostate. Again. Again. And again. He continues to hit it directly, unraveling Harry a bit further with every thrust.

“Fuck. Your cock. Love.”

Louis coughs out a small laugh, despite the fact that he, too, is close to falling apart. Because it's a little funny, this. Harry legit just professed his love for cock whilst being fucked into their control panel. Louis hopes the recording picked up that pearl.

“Love your cock too, baby.” Louis responds, reaching his right hand around Harry's waist so he can wrap his fingers around him. It throbs hot and heavy in his grip. Louis knows it won't be long now. They're both close.

He jerks him in time with his thrusts, cherishing all the filthy sounds that spill freely from Harry's lips. This isn't a race nor is it a fast fuck. It's slow, steady, and practiced. Louis isn't looking to win. More like, he wants them to fly.

Harry's breath hitches and his cock twitches in Louis’ hand.

“I'm gonna…” Harry warns.

“Come.” Louis finishes Harry’s sentence for him, ordering him. So Harry does, his hands pushed flat against the board as his back arches up away from it.  He clenches impossibly tight around Louis’ cock, sending him crashing over the edge at the same time. With his fingers digging tight into Harry's hips, Louis continues to thrust his hips, fucking them through it, releasing pulse after pulse of hot come inside of him.

The room is filled with heavy breathing as Marvin continues to croon about getting it on. The song plays on as the two of them catch their breath and when it starts again, they both start laughing. Because it’s ridiculous. And so are they.

Louis pulls out gently, feeling some of his come move with him, dripping down Harry’s inner thigh. Harry hisses, then whimpers as he feels it too and Louis is overcome with emotions suddenly. Not about the shoes because it’s probably time for him to let that go, but about them. And the fact that they just recorded this for posterity. Or at least for themselves. It’s still a lot.

He wipes his hands on the towel beneath Harry and then rubs them down Harry’s back, massaging him since he’s probably a little sore from this position. Then he links his arms under Harry’s chest, lifting him until he’s standing again. Pressing a soft kiss to each shoulder, he whispers, “Come on,” and proceeds to walk them through the halls towards their ensuite for a hot shower.

“I’m sorry, Lou” Harry whispers once they’re under the hot spray. Louis busies himself, massaging strawberry shampoo into his hair.

“Shh.” That’s all he says because truth be told, he doesn’t want to think about it anymore. They’re just shoes. And those were just words. Words that have been said at least a million times since then. He needs to let it go. Louis continues to lather suds in Harry’s hair and then watches as they all swirl down the drain. He lets it go.

Leaning forward, he kisses Harry gently this time, as warm water cascades down their bodies. He lets it go.

Later that night, Harry comes into their bedroom with one of his fancy cameras in hand, a soft smile on his face. Louis quirks an eye curiously at him.

“Wanna show you something.” He explains. He taps a few buttons on the viewing screen and then hands the camera to Louis. And Louis immediately gasps.

Because there, on the screen, are his Vans in black and white.

“Hit the forward button.”

So Louis does. And his eyes get a little moist around the edges. Because Harry didn’t forget. Here, in these black and white images is Harry’s coded declaration. Captured forever even though the shoes themselves are gone.

“I love you.” Louis tells him simply.

Harry smiles his brightest smile back at him.

“I love you always.”

“So you’ll never throw away any of my things again without asking?” Louis asks him pointedly.

Harry’s nose scrunches up fondly. “How about if I agree that I won’t throw out anything important?”

“Henry...” Louis threatens.

“Fine. Fine .” Harry relents. It’s an empty promise and they both know it. But that’s okay because Harry remembered.

And when Harry does it again? Which he absolutely will? Well, they’ll always have Marvin.

~fin