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so hot, give me your gasoline

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It’s a Friday night and Harry is in London to see a play. By himself. He doesn’t want to be here.

However, his English teacher offered the entire class extra credit if they made the trek to London and brought back a ticket stub to validate that they’d gone to see Hamlet. Harry does well in class but he flubbed one of his essays a month ago, so he he needs this boost to his grade. He’s going to uni in London in the fall and he doesn’t want to risk it with any black marks on his transcript. He’d much rather be in Niall or Zayn’s basements, having a lad’s night, but. Here he is.

He took an earlier train than he needed to so he wound up in the front of the line and, unfortunately, the front of the theater. He sits in his seat morosely and tinkers with his phone while he waits for the space to fill up. He’s seated with an elderly woman swathed in perfume and costume jewelry on one side and a stoic middle-aged man wearing a tweed suit on his other. Harry hopes he doesn’t fall asleep on either of them.

zaaaayn why didn’t you come with me :(

He switches over to his Instagram and scrolls through his feed robotically while he waits for Zayn to respond. If he responds at all, that is. He isn’t exactly known for texting back in a timely manner. Maybe he should have texted Niall. Niall would have kept him entertained.

His phone buzzes right as he accidentally double-taps a photo of a shirtless boy, thinking it was a video. He hates Instagram. hahahaha mate soz i didn’t need extra credit ! work harder and u wouldn’t be there ! :P

Fucking Zayn.


The play starts about twenty minutes later. Studying Hamlet has been an exercise in patience on Harry’s end. They’re almost through with the unit, and Ms. Robertson had deemed seeing the play a fitting end to her lessons. Harry’s kind of hated Hamlet so far, though, so this feels a little more like torture. There’s only so many whining soliloquies he can take.

The lights dim and Harry quiets his thoughts, determined to at least half pay attention to what’s going on on the stage. Maybe it’ll help him understand it more. Or something.

The play starts as usual, with the guards seeing the ghostly spectre of the recently deceased King. Harry snaps to attention in the next scene though. The man playing Hamlet is extraordinarily attractive. He’s sulking in the corner, shadows beautifully cast on his moody face. He’s tan, with high, sculpted cheekbones and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. His hair is long and artfully coifed, framing his face. He’s in the back some, so Harry can’t see him too well, but his eyes seem really, really blue. Christ, he’s hot.

He searches around for the program he was given upon entry to the venue and flicks through the pages until he sees his bio. Louis Tomlinson as Prince Hamlet. He’s an up and coming stage actor who graduated with a degree in theater two years ago. Apparently he’s been acting supporting roles since then, but this run of Hamlet is his first lead role. His picture is in black and white, a stereotypical headshot that movies have led him to believe every aspiring actor gets; the shot is serious and handsome but Harry kind of gets the feeling that Louis was seconds away from crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue and fucking up the picture. He gives him that kind of vibe. It’s hot. Everything about Louis is hot and Harry is so glad he came to see the play. He’s going to have to write Ms. Robertson a thank you card for indirectly fueling his wank fantasies for the next month. Maybe that would be inappropriate.

A new voice cuts across the stage and Harry jerks his head back up just in time to see Louis start his speech. Holy shit. His voice is high and scratchy; each word falls from his lips with ease as he effortlessly speaks his lines. He didn’t think it was possible, but he’s even more turned on than he was before. Shit.

How is he going to sit through this entire play without dying? Or jerking off. He casts an uneasy glance at the people sitting on either side of him. Right. He’s in public.

It’s going to be a long night.


Halfway through the play Harry finally comes to a startling and devastating delayed realization. Louis Hamlet, as he’s affectionately dubbed him, is wearing tights. Form-fitting tights that cling to his strong legs very, very indecently. They’re black, probably to preserve some form of modesty, but Harry’s sitting in the front row so, like, he sees everything. Everything. And Louis Hamlet’s cock is a sight to behold. Harry hasn’t seen many dicks in his life besides awkward glances in the locker room after PE and extraordinary amounts of gay porn, but Louis seems really...big. He’s tucked to the left, a nice bulge evident against his thigh. Harry really shouldn’t be staring this hard at his cock. He’s a pervert. He should be ashamed. He’s not.

He crosses the stage and comes closer to Harry than he has all night. Harry fidgets nervously in his seat, which seems to attract Louis’ attention. He glances at Harry quickly; Harry tries to smile at him, but Louis turns his eyes back to the stage quickly, watching another character speak. Harry frowns in frustration. That was his big shot right there. His big shot at what, he’s not sure, because obviously Louis has more discipline than to hop off the stage and fuck him in his seat, but. Still.

He can do better than this. He squirms nervously and starts moving about obnoxiously in his seat to try and gain his attention once more. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, flicks his arm out widely to stretch out his sleeve, and shakes his head and smoothes his hair back from his forehead. Finally, after a couple annoyed glances from the man to his right, Louis looks back at him.

There are a lot of things Harry could have done in this moment. Smile suggestively, spreading his legs and narrowing his eyes would’ve been his best bet. Instead he waggles his eyebrows cartoonishly at Louis, grinning his dopiest smile. Louis should have ignored him, because, wow, that was awful, but he doesn’t. For one brief moment, he breaks. He grins down at Harry for a second but then smooths it out with a contorted movement of his lips and glances away.


(Louis keeps looking at him for the rest of the play. He’s shirtless a lot, too. Harry doesn’t remember that in the reading, but he won’t complain.)


Harry dawdles in the lobby afterward for a bit. The end of the play involved a lot of death, and he’s still feeling a little emo about the sight of Louis’ body lifeless in the center of the stage. He doesn’t really know why he’s waiting around, though. Okay, yes he does. He wants to see if Louis makes an appearance.

He’s rocking back on his heels, head tilted back as he traces his eyes along the rafters of the ceiling, when he feels a strong hand grip his elbow. He panics for a moment, wondering if he’s about to be Taken -- the movie’s been on his mind an unreasonable amount since he watched it last week with Niall and Zayn and he’s pretty sure Robin isn’t on par with Liam Neeson -- but then turns and sees Louis Hamlet. He’s in normal clothes now, a grey t-shirt and joggers, and his face looks like it’s been hurriedly scrubbed clean of his stage makeup. He’s even hotter up close. His eyelashes are insane.

“Hi,” he squeaks, waving his free hand awkwardly.

Louis smiles up at him in amusement. “Hi,” he responds. “What’s your name?”

“Harry,” he answers. “Harry Styles.”

“Well, Harry Styles,” Louis pauses, running his eyes down the length of his body, “Would you like to come backstage?”

Harry nods excitedly and Louis immediately takes his hand, pulling him through a side door. They travel wordlessly down a dim corridor until they reach another door adorned with a plaque that says “Louis Tomlinson” in bold black letters. Harry beams proudly at the other man. He hardly knows him, but he’s glad he’s getting the recognition he deserves. He’s a really lovely actor, even if Harry distracted him throughout the evening.

Louis unlocks the door and pulls Harry into the room. It’s a small but cozy space. The walls are cream-colored and decorated with random bits of abstract art. There’s a big table along the wall connected to a huge mirror with lights running along the side. Across from that is an incredibly comfortable-looking couch, decorated with throw pillows.

“This is a nice room,” Harry offers. Louis shrugs bashfully and closes the door behind him, leaning against it and crossing his arms while he looks Harry over. “So,” Harry starts. “What did you want to bring me back here for?” He has a guess, but he wants Louis to make the moves here. Seduce him a little.

Louis grins and cocks his head to the side, rolling his shoulder against the door. “Just wanted to get to the know the boy who was ogling my ass throughout the entirety of Act III, Scene IV.”

Harry blushes and toes his feet along the floor, biting his lip. In retrospect, he’s a little taken aback by his shamelessness throughout the play. He’s always been told that he’s quite single-minded, but he took it to another level tonight. He’s not sure he regrets it. He looks back up at Louis and trails his eyes over his body. No, he definitely doesn’t regret it.

“How old are you, Harry?” Louis asks. He pushes himself off from the door with his shoulder and stalks closer to Harry like he’s his prey.

“Old enough,” he answers. He tries to cover the automatic wince he makes at the cliched response.

Louis throws his head back and gives a quick bark of throaty laughter. He brings his hand up to stroke his chin as he raises his eyebrows and gives Harry an amused look. “Old enough for what, darling?”

Harry experiences a devastating moment of unease at the question. He kind of took it for granted that Louis took him back here…things with him. What if he completely misread the situation? Maybe Louis just wants to give him a surely well-earned lecture about respecting actors and not ogling them on stage.

“I…” he trails off, gulping. “Um.”

Louis lets him flounder for a moment, leveling him with a serious look. When Harry’s face darkens and he starts to stutter, though, Louis finally takes pity on him.

“I’m joking,” he laughs. “Christ, your face.”

Harry sulks, crossing his arms and casting his eyes toward the floor. He feels very young all of a sudden.

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Louis says softly. He crosses the space between them and cups his cheek in his hand. “Just a little teasing, darling. You’re good.” Harry smiles a little and bites his lower lip. Louis’ eyes narrow in on the movement. He keeps talking while he focuses on his lips. “Really would like to make sure you’re legal, though, babe. I’m a little worried that I’m being a huge pervert right now, bringing you backstage. I never do this, you know,” he stresses. “If the one time I did you wound up being a toddler, I’d probably die of mortification.”

Harry rolls his eyes and snorts. “Not a toddler, obviously. What’s the legal age?”

“Sixteen or older,” Louis answers immediately. “Please tell me you’re older.”

Harry grins and shifts his weight from foot to foot. “You’re in luck. Just turned eighteen a month ago.”

Louis closes his eyes and does an overdramatic fist pump of victory. Harry giggles and moves even closer, shortening the space between them to just inches. “You’re only a little bit of a pervert, then.”

“Shut up,” Louis hisses. “Kiss me.” So he does. He leans down and presses his lips gently against Louis’ thinner ones, feeling the sticky residue of his stage makeup on his mouth. It’s hesitant at first, more of them testing the feel of each other’s lips than anything. Harry pulls back after a moment and rests his forehead against Louis’ while he stares at him through hooded lids. Louis bites his lips and keeps his gaze trained on Harry’s mouth. When Harry doesn’t make a move, Louis huffs out a frustrated breath and yanks Harry in by his collar.

Harry’s giggles are swallowed by Louis’ mouth as he presses his tongue inside, twisting it along Harry’s as he sucks on his lower lip. Harry moans and pulls Louis closer against his body, opening his mouth wider as their kiss turns hungry and heated.

Definitely his best first kissing experience, he thinks. Not that he has much experience to compare it to, but Louis blows all of the other boys out of the water. He expected as much, really.

Louis places his hands on Harry’s hipbones and gently pushes him back, leading him to the couch behind him. When the back of his knees hit the cushion, he wobbles unsteadily for a moment until Louis pushes him sideways onto his back. He settles himself into the cushion while Louis watches him hungrily from the side.

Harry splays himself out, stretching his legs apart and bringing one hand to rest behind his head while he moves his other hand to his mouth, biting one of his fingers while he waits for Louis’ next move. Louis curses softly and climbs onto the couch, straddling Harry’s narrow hips. He keeps himself poised above him, just raking his eyes over Harry’s body. Harry feels self-conscious for a moment, not used to getting so thoroughly checked out.

Louis skirts his eyes down to his stomach, over the inch of bare skin revealed from where his shirt rode up. He trails his thumb along his skin, tickling the fine hairs above his waistband; Harry giggles uncontrollably and shrinks on himself, throwing out his arms to grab Louis and drag him in by his neck. Louis sighs into his mouth and presses sweet kisses on his lower lip while he runs the palm of his hand gently along his belly. It’s unexpectedly reverent, calming any of Harry’s remaining nerves.

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

Louis smiles against his mouth and shakes his head. “I am kissing you, darling.”

Harry pouts, sticking out his lower lip even further while Louis continues placing gentle pecks onto it. “Kiss kiss.”

“Hmmm, a kiss kiss you say,” Louis hums against his mouth. “S’pose I can do that.”

Louis delivers a soft bite to Harry’s lip and then licks his way inside his mouth. He angles his head to the right and fists his hands in Harry’s hair to drag him closer, sliding his tongue along Harry’s. Harry moans deeply and runs his hands down the other man’s back to rest above his hips, pulling his shirt up so he can slide them along his bare skin. Louis pulls back for a brief moment to pull his t-shirt above his head and throw it onto the floor. He surges in for another kiss while Harry runs his hands all over his body, feeling the flesh he’d ogled from the stage less than an hour ago.

Less than an hour ago, Christ. If things progress the way Harry wants them to, they’ll go from Zero to Anal in under sixty minutes. He’s gonna brag about this so much.

Louis trails his lips down to his neck, licking along the veins of his neck and sucking lovebites into his skin. Harry lets his mouth fall open in a silent moan as his whimpers get caught in his throat.

He might wind up keeping this experience to himself, actually.

Keeping his mouth attached to his neck, Louis takes hold of Harry’s thighs and hitches them over his hips, maneuvering himself between them so that his crotch settles against Harry’s arse. Slowly, Louis eases his hips back and then grinds forward, rubbing himself against him while his belly drags against Harry’s cock. Harry squeezes his eyes shut and whines, digging his nails into the back of Louis’ neck as he pulls him closer.

“Louis,” he groans. “Do something.”

Louis removes his lips and stares up at Harry from his spot near his neck, blue eyes blown dark and glassy. “Do what, Harry? What do you want to do?”

“Everything,” Harry breathes. “I want it all.”

Louis bites his lip and grips one of Harry’s thighs harder, pinching his skin with his nails. “Have you done this before?”

Fuck. He really hopes this isn’t a dealbreaker. He’s not sure if Louis wants the responsibility of taking some stranger kid’s virginity in his dressing room after only knowing him for an hour. He shakes his head slowly from side to side anyway, hoping honesty is the best policy.

Louis groans and buries his face in Harry’s chest. He takes a moment to collect himself, his breath dampening the skin of Harry’s shirt, before he looks back up. “You’re sure you want it?”

Yes. Fuck yes. Harry nods eagerly and grins, grinding his hips upwards to punctuate his assent.

Louis lets out a long breath and nods a few times to himself. “Right. Well, we’re going to be here for awhile then, babe.”

Sounds perfect to Harry, except for the fact that his train back home leaves in about fifteen minutes. “Shit,” he mutters. Louis cocks his head to the side in question. “My train takes off in fifteen minutes, I’m gonna miss it.”

Louis frowns and chews his lip pensively. “Could you--you could stay at mine? For the night? I live alone, so. I won’t murder you. Promise!”

Harry brightens and smiles. If he stays the night he might get even more sex. Amazing. He’ll text his mum later and let her know he’s staying at Niall’s or something. For now, though, he has other matters to attend to. He wiggles his hips impatiently and gives Louis a flirty look, encouraging him to resume with the kisses. He loves kisses.

Louis takes the hint, rucking his shirt up to his collarbones and pressing his lips over every inch of his chest. He sucks his left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened nub, and then switches to the right nipple, repeating the action. He plays with the abandoned nipple with his hand for a moment and then pauses, drawing back to stare at his chest in wonder.

“Four nipples?” he asks.

“More for you to play with,” Harry responds, hoping he’ll let it go. He’s not like a cow or anything -- they aren’t udders. Nothing to be ashamed of.

Louis, however, smirks and slithers further down the couch, licking the smallest nipple into his mouth. His extra nipples aren’t especially sensitive but, like, Louis’ mouth is on his body and that feels pretty amazing.

“You taste good,” Louis murmurs into his skin. Harry thinks he probably tastes like sweat and soap, actually, but he’ll take the compliment as long as Louis’ mouth stays attached to his body.

Louis licks along the lines of his abs -- less from working out than from being a lanky teenager -- and trails his tongue down to the hairs peeking out from his waistband. Louis glances up mischievously, waggling his eyebrows, and then darts down to run his tongue right underneath the band of his boxer briefs. He sucks dark red marks into his skin while his hand moves to the fly of his jeans, unbuttoning the top and then sliding the zipper down.

He sits up abruptly and wraps his hands around Harry’s thighs, tugging him back until his thighs are supported on Louis’. He rubs his hands over the outside of his legs and then tucks his fingers over the top of his jeans, pulling them down slowly until they pool at Harry’s knees.

Harry feels a bit trapped, laying motionless on the couch while his legs are confined in denim, but the sensation just sends a small thrill down his spine. Louis’ eyes are so dark, focused on his dick which he can feel leaking a wet spot through his pants. With a teasing glance towards Harry, Louis dances one hand along his thigh and down to his briefs, rubbing at his side and nudging gently along the the outline of his cock before flitting away again to his hip.

You fucker,” Harry whines. “Touch me.”

“I am touching you,” Louis responds, tapping his fingers dangerously close to his dick again. Harry’s only known him for an hour, but he gets the feeling Louis is a merciless tease. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“Put your hand,” Harry orders, “On my cock.”

Louis huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes. “Fine.” With that, he wraps his hand tightly over Harry’s clothed cock, stroking it fast and filthy while Harry blurts more precome into the fabric.

“Oh God,” Harry moans. “Please.”

“Good, baby? You like this?” Louis whispers. “So sensitive.”

“Can you--,” Harry croaks. “Pants. Off.”

Louis shuffles to the end of the couch and drags Harry’s skintight jeans off of his legs, tossing them onto the floor. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip and grins at Harry as he grabs the hem off his briefs and yanks them, pulling them down to the crease of his thigh as his cock bobs free, leaking against his left hip.

“Christ,” Louis curses, eyes wide and hungry. “Nice cock, mate.”

“Thanks,” Harry laughs weakly. “Sure yours is lovely too, so hurry.” He eye-fucked his dick in those tights all night and he wants the real thing, dammit. Speaking of which -- he darts his eyes down to Louis’ joggers for the first time and lets out a strangled croak. Judging by what he’s seeing, Louis has decided to forgo wearing pants. His cock is fucking massive, lined up against his left thigh, the tip dampening the fabric.

Louis giggles and runs his hands down his belly to the drawstring of his joggers. He pulls the string down, tugging the fabric with it until the base of his cock is revealed. Harry whines and spreads his legs, rolling his hips up into the air. Louis teases him, tugging them down a little more, before leaving them there and lunging forward to pull Harry’s briefs off all of the way. He throws them on top of his jeans and then leans down to lick the crease of Harry’s thigh.

Harry hisses out a breath and pants as he watches Louis lick all around his pelvis, inching closer and closer to his cock. He hovers his mouth over the tip of him, the sensation of his hot breath making his dick twitch. He keeps himself poised over his cock, switching his gaze back and forth from him to his eyes -- Harry’s just about to beg him to do it, again when Louis ducks down and sucks the tip into his mouth. Harry throws his head back against the couch cushion as he sucks in a deep, painful breath. Louis wraps his fist around the base of his cock and sucks slowly, slowly, slowly until his lips meet his fingers.

He pulls off and licks around the head quickly, sucking the tip into his mouth every so often to tease him. He keeps it up, twisting his fist while his mouth twists the opposite way on his cock. When he goes back down again and his lips touch his fingers, he takes his hand away and goes even further, moving down until his lips are near the base of his cock. He stays there for a moment, flashing his eyes up to Harry and blinking coquettishly at him through his eyelashes. Harry nearly comes undone, his breath quickening and his tummy tightening; he’s about to warn Louis that he’s coming when Louis pulls off completely, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Nooo,” Harry complains. Louis grins and licks down his thighs, sucking marks into his skin that Harry knows will burn pleasantly against his jeans. Louis stands up right as Harry is about to squeeze his head between his thighs and finally pulls his joggers off; his cock bobs out in front of him and Harry nearly cries at the sight. He’s massive, thick and long and impossibly hard. He’s determined to get his mouth on it before he leaves tomorrow morning. Harry can’t live his life without having Louis fuck his mouth. It just wouldn’t be fair.

Instead of climbing all over him like he expected, Louis turns and digs through a bag sitting on a chair in the corner. Harry takes a moment to admire his arse -- more than a moment, actually -- but becomes a little distracted when Louis pulls a tiny travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom out of one of the zippered sides.

Harry giggles and crosses his arms behind his head, raising his eyebrows at the other boy. “Carry that kinda thing with you? Very interesting, Louis.”

Louis flings the bottle at his chest and squawks in protest. “You can never be too prepared, babe. That’s a lesson you learn when you’re not a bloody teenager.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry says. He spreads his thighs far apart and bends his knees, planting his feet firmly on the couch cushions. “Open me up.”

“Christ, Harry,” Louis mutters, staring at his arse. For a moment Harry wonders if he was a little too brazen -- his knowledge of dirty talk is strictly confined to what he’s seen in porn and, well, that’s porn -- but soon enough Louis is sitting between his legs, running his hands reverently over his thighs. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Louis grabs the bottle and snicks it open, coating three of his fingers thoroughly. He pulls Harry closer and spreads his thighs widely apart, staring at his face while he touches the pads of his fingers against his entrance. Harry jerks and shivers at the cold sensation, fighting the urge to clench his legs shut. Louis keeps rubbing at his hole until he’s settled down, teasing him with the tip of his finger with every few strokes.

“You ready?” he asks. Harry nods eagerly and tries to angle his neck so that he can see what he’s doing. Louis pushes the tip of his pointer finger inside of him lazily, easing his way in until the base of his finger meets his rim. It feels weird, honestly; Harry’s tried to do this to himself a few times but Louis’ fingers are thicker than his own’s Louis. Louis’ finger is in his arse. Harry smiles to himself, attracting Louis’ attention. He must take it as a cue to go on, because he pulls his finger nearly all the way out and then thrusts it back in, easing the way.

“Two?” Louis questions. At Harry’s nod, Louis takes his finger out and brings back two this time, pushing gently at his rim. It’s more of a burn this time, and Harry can definitely feel the stretch. He uses his other hand to fist Harry’s cock, keeping him hard while he fingers him open. After a few drags of his fingers, he crooks them upwards and starts rubbing along his wall in insistent circular motions. Harry sighs and flutters his eyes shut, feeling oddly relaxed.

Then Louis’ fingers hit a spot inside of him. Harry jerks his body and shudders out a gasping breath while Louis grins and focuses his fingers on the spot, rubbing determinedly until Harry’s whining loudly.

“That,” Louis starts, “would be your prostate, love.” His prostate. Harry had always thought they were some mythical creation that didn’t really exist. But judging from the way his body is going haywire, they definitely do. Definitely.

“Gonna add a third finger now, Harry. Okay?” Harry tries to shake his head but he winds up just flopping it against the pillow and grunting. Louis tucks his third finger in and pushes it in leisurely until it joins the others, rubbing at his prostate.

The stretch burns even more this time, but Harry is too far gone to care. He grinds back into each thrust of Louis’ fingers until he’s basically doing the work for him, lifting his hips and working himself onto his hand. Louis alternates between stroking his cock and holding his hips down, controlling the frantic pace Harry’s began.

“More, more, more,” Harry begs.

“More fingers?” Louis asks.

“No,” Harry pleads. “Want--your cock. Want it.”

Louis gives him a few more thrusts of his fingers and then pulls out; Harry whines at the loss and grinds his hips into the air, desperate to be filled. Distantly, in the back of his sex-hazed mind, he registers the fact that he’s about to lose his virginity to a near stranger, but he can’t really imagine this happening any better way. Louis is fit and sweet and fit, and he’s already 99% sure he’s going to program his number into his phone before they say their goodbyes tomorrow.

Louis rips the condom packet up and rolls it over himself with a deft hand, slicking himself up with nearly the entirety of what’s left in the tiny bottle of lube. “Want to make sure it won’t hurt too bad,” Louis offers. He braces himself up above Harry’s body, holding himself up with one hand while Harry cups the underside of each of his knees and spreads himself open for him. Louis wraps his other hand around the base of his cock and presses his head against Harry’s entrance, pushing in inch by inch. Halfway inside, he stills and takes a deep breath, watching Harry for any signs of pain.

It does hurt, but not like falling off of his bike or cracking his shin against his desk. It’s like he’s being turned inside out, the pressure of Louis’ big cock inside of him almost uncomfortable. After a few seconds, Louis pushes further, inching his way inside until he’s buried to the hilt. He groans and buries his head in the junction between Harry’s neck and shoulder, breathing out tingly hot breaths onto his skin. Harry gives himself time to adjust, wiggling around subtly until he finds that it’s not too unbearable anymore. It feels kind of nice, actually, being filled like this -- being filled by Louis.

“You can move,” he breathes. Louis nods against his neck and then sucks in a breath as he pulls halfway out, thrusting back quickly with a smooth movement. He starts with these small thrusts, warming Harry up until he pulls all the way out, slamming back inside with a loud slap of their skin. Harry hitches his legs over Louis’ hips and crosses his ankles, anchoring himself while Louis starts a steady pace of deep, slow thrusts.

It’s gone from being bearable to actually being pleasurable, the sensation of his cock filling him so thoroughly and the brush of Louis’ stomach against his leaking cock making him whimper into Louis’ ear. Louis moves his head to rest against Harry’s shoulder, watching Harry’s profile and then peaking his eyes to the side. He keeps switching his gaze back and forth, his eyes darkening more and more each time; Harry turns his head to see what he’s looking at and gasps at the sight of himself in the makeup mirror.

“Shit,” he curses. Louis bites at his neck while they watch each other, Harry’s breaths quickening at the sight of Louis’ body covering his.

“You wanna try something?” Louis asks. Harry nods before Louis can even describe what he wants, knowing it’ll probably be hot anyway. But then he pulls out, completely, sitting away from Harry and no -- that’s not what he wants at all. He holds his hands out and whines, gesturing for Louis to come back, but Louis just grins widely and rubs his hands all over Harry’s calves. “Stand up for a moment.”

Harry complies, standing on wobbly legs and trying to keep his balance. Louis takes his seat on the couch, except he sits up with his back against the seat cushions instead. He wraps his hand around his cock and gestures for Harry to sit.

“How--” Harry cuts himself off, crooking his head to the side and frowning.

“Turn around,” Louis says. Harry turns so his arse is facing Louis, only feeling a little self-conscious because, well, his dick has already been inside of it. Louis grips his hips and backs him up until the back of his knees hit the couch. “Put your knees on either side of my thighs, babe.”

Harry bends each leg until he’s kneeling on the couch with his back to Louis’ chest; Louis runs his hands over Harry’s body, placing gentle kisses along his back, trailing down to this dip of his hips. Harry sighs and moves back, lowering himself onto Louis’ crotch and grinding against him. Louis’ cock slips in between his cheeks, rubbing wetly along the cleft of his arse. Harry mewls and drops his head onto Louis’ shoulder, whimpering whenever the head of Louis’ cock rubs against his rim. Louis’ fingers dig into his hipbones as he nudges Harry’s head up, nodding him towards the mirror.

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says. He thrusts in between his cheeks forcefully while he kneads his hips in his hands. “Gorgeous.” He lets Harry writhe against him patiently for a little while longer before he pulls him away. He spreads Harry’s cheeks and lines the tip of his cock against Harry’s entrance, pushing in again gently until Harry’s arse is completely seated in his lap. They sit there for a moment, completely still while Harry catches his breath. He bends over just a little so he can place his hands on his kneecaps, adjusting to having Louis inside him again.

When he feels like he can breathe again, he looks up and catches Louis watching him in the mirror. With their eyes locked, Harry pulls himself back up until just the tip is inside of him, and then rocks back down into Louis’ grip. From this angle, the head of Louis’ dick hits almost directly at his prostate, leaving Harry shaking as he tries to keep himself moving.

Louis lets him have this bit of control, sitting back and taking it as Harry shuffles himself back and forth, undulating his body in his lap. Harry isn’t sure he wants control anymore, however, because his stare is locked onto the bulge of Louis’ biceps in the mirror. He kind of wants Louis to hold him there and fuck him until he couldn’t move even if he wants to.

Christ, he was a virgin only fifteen minutes ago and now he’s begging to get destroyed. Go big or go home, apparently.

“Louis,” he pleads. “Just--fuck me. Please.”

Louis doesn’t waste any time, grabbing Harry’s hips when he’s just seated halfway on his cock and keeping him still while he slams upwards, driving himself inside deep. Harry cries out, but tries to muffle the noises into his arm, worried that someone outside will hear him. Louis must notice, because he grunts out, “Room’s soundproofed. Be as loud as you want, baby.”

Harry moans, long and loud, his deep voice reverberating around the room. His hair shakes out in front of his face as Louis drives inside of him again and again, the slap of their skin mingling with their voices sounding filthy and obscene. Harry always thought that the actors were exaggerating their pleasure in porn, crying out for the sake of whoever was watching on their computer, but he’s gaining an odd sense of accomplishment at being just as loud. Louder, even, he decides after Louis nails his prostate on a particularly strong thrust.

He watches himself in the mirror through watery eyes; his body is flushed and sweaty and it’s almost comical the way his cock is bobbing erratically, slapping against his stomach with every plunge. He brings his hand down to cup his balls, massaging them and fisting his cock until he’s nearly about to come. He teases himself then and let’s go, letting Louis keep him on the edge with his frantic fucking.

“Make me come, Louis,” he moans.

Louis hums and shakes his head behind him. He stares at Harry’s cock in the mirror while he says, “Think you can make yourself come, babe. Look at yourself,” he orders. “My cock splitting you open, your thighs shaking.” Harry looks down at where they’re joined and whimpers while he watches Louis’ dick sink into him. “Your nipples, too, baby. Wish I had played with them more. Look at how red they are. Touch them for me.” Harry obeys and pinches his tips in between the pads of his fingers, rolling and pulling them roughly until they’re puffed out and aching. “Just look at how hot you are, angel. So open for me. Can you come?”

Louis thrusts inside a few more times with deadly aim until Harry freezes, completely still. He comes with a loud scream against his stomach, tightening around Louis’ cock tightly until he’s finished spurting. Louis thrusts twice more and then grunts loudly, biting into Harry’s back as he spills inside the condom. Harry collapses with his back against his chest, breathing in short breaths while Louis kisses along his neck to calm him down.

Harry winces when Louis pulls out, feeling tender and sensitive. He lays lengthwise on the couch while Louis gets up and searches for something to clean his belly up with. He comes back with a wet wipe and washes him up, placing a gentle kiss at the tip of his spent cock when he’s done.

“You’re coming back to my flat tonight like you said, right?” Louis asks.

Harry nods tiredly and tries to sit up, getting ready to get dressed. “Going right to your bed, Lewis. You killed me proper.”

Louis giggles and helps him dress, tugging his shirt over his head and buttoning his jeans. Louis grabs his bag and then Harry’s hand, opening the door and leading him into the hallway. A few people pass by with amused glances, darting their eyes back and forth between the boys. Harry blushes when one of them calls out, “Good job, Lou!”

When they make it down to the lobby Harry smacks Louis in the stomach and hisses, “Thought you said the room was soundproofed.”

Louis’ mouth falls open, looking a bit chagrined, but still protests, “Well, it’s supposed to be! You must have broke the sound barrier. Maybe you should be on stage, we might have an opening for a wailing ghost.”

Harry turns his nose up and huffs. “See if I’m ever loud with you again.”

“Again?” Louis questions. He looks a little hopeful as he bites his lip and looks up at Harry.

“I’m moving here for uni in a couple months,” Harry admits. “Don’t suppose you’d like having a wailing ghost follow you around, would you?”

Louis smiles and faces forward, leading Harry out of the lobby doors. “I suppose I could handle that,” he answers.


Harry loses his ticket stub to the play and doesn’t get extra credit for his class. It was still worth it.