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“Can’t wait to get you home, Lou,” Harry stares intently at the road, knowing that he’s swerving a bit, but as long as he can keep the car within the lines, they’ll be fine. It’s just that Louis can’t keep his hands off of him and on top of his blood-alcohol level, as well as the molly he popped a few hours ago, Harry is having a very hard time focusing on driving instead of the way his cock is making his jeans even tighter than they already were.
“H, wanna suck you off right now. Can I do that?” Louis’ words come out between pants as he palms himself from the passenger seat.
“I’ve got a better idea,” they wouldn’t normally be driving home drunk, but Liam invited over way more people than they expected and their typically reserved room was taken and Harry wasn’t about to let the night pass without fucking his boyfriend. He removes a small packet of lube from his back pocket and hands it to Louis, “Take this and start getting yourself ready for me, baby.”
Louis practically jumps at that, unbuttoning his pants in record time, “Yeah, I can do that.”
It takes everything within Harry to actually keep looking at the road as Louis pulls his pants down to his thighs and begins circling his hole with a wet finger, “Want you to tell me how it feels, yeah? I have to watch the road, but I want to hear you.”
A small moan escapes Louis’ lips as he presses in one fingertip, “Feels good, Harry. S’been too long.”
It’s only been about two days since Harry properly fucked Louis, but he knows what he means, “Stretch yourself out good for me, love. Don’t want to hurt you.”
Louis nods, gasping as he pushes farther into himself. Harry releases one hand from the steering wheel and grips himself through his jeans, stifling a groan.
“Wish it were your fingers, H. Y’always do it better,” Louis’ broken words only make Harry hotter and he tries to focus on street signs in an attempt to figure out how far they are from home.
Louis shudders as he adds a second finger, much too quickly if Harry has anything to say about it, but Louis never takes his time opening himself up. He’s just desperate and disinterested in the imminent pain as long as it means he’ll get what he wants. And he knows he will.
“Drive faster, babe. C’mon, I’m about ready for your big cock,” Louis has leaned over the center console and started kissing Harry’s jawline. He grips the wheel and his own hardness at the same time, pressing on the gas a little harder. The last thing they need right now is to be pulled over, but they’re only two streets away from the building where their flat is, and he decides it’s worth the risk if he can get inside Louis a bit faster.
By the time Harry pulls into the car park, Louis is scissoring two fingers in his hole, moaning filthily into Harry’s neck. Harry throws the car into park and removes the keys, “Put your pants on; I hope you’re ready for me.”
Louis’ mouth is dry as a bone due to the mixture of weed and cocaine, but he manages to grunt in response, removing his fingers and wiping them on the side of his briefs. He pulls his pants on, not even worrying about buttoning them, and races to catch up to Harry, who is about halfway to the lift.
Once he reaches his boyfriend, Louis is being backed into an elevator by strong hands on his hips, lips on his. They don’t pay attention to their surroundings, and they definitely don’t notice the man leaning against the corner opposite them. That is, until he clears his throat.
Harry’s head turns quickly in aggravation as Louis buries his face in Harry’s shoulder.
“Y’got a problem, mate?” Harry’s voice is deep and wrecked already.
“Yeah,” the stranger rolls his eyes, “Get a fucking room.”
Harry presses the button for the tenth floor and scowls, “What does it look like we’re doing?”
“Quite frankly,” the man puffs his chest out, “It looks like you’re trying to fuck on the lift. His pants are undone for Christ’s sake. C’mon, no straight man wants to see that shit.”
“Really, now?” Harry takes a step toward the man, arms stocky on either side of his frame, “Because I know plenty of ‘straight’ men who get a pretty nasty beating for staring at my boy’s arse. Is that what it is? Are you scared because it turns you on?”
“Harry-“ Louis pleads absentmindedly as the elevator reaches their floor.
“Yeah, Harry, listen to your little bitch and stop acting like some big bad man when you’re just a fag,” the man smirks, fully expecting Harry to simply walk away.
Harry mimics his playful smile just before winding one arm back and throwing his fist into the man’s face as hard as he can, which is fairly hard, despite the concoction of drugs and alcohol flowing through his veins. The stranger immediately falls to the ground, and even though Louis is tugging on Harry’s arm, he takes a moment more to kick him in the gut.
“I may like dick, but that doesn’t make me any less of a man, and at least I’m getting some” Harry spits in the man’s face and turns around to stumble after Louis, running his fingers through his own messy hair.
Once Harry reaches their flat, Louis already has the door open, simply waiting for Harry to walk through so that he can tug him into their bedroom.
“Fucking love it when you get all defensive and angry like that,” Louis mutters with his lips against Harry’s neck.
“Yeah?” Harry begs for more, “You like it when I get angry?”
Louis breathes in deeply, allowing Harry to push him through their bedroom door, “Yeah, because it’s never at me.”
“No, baby,” Harry ensures as he lifts Louis onto the bed, “I could never hurt you.”
“And you could never love anyone but me,” Louis adds confidently.
“No one else,” Harry groans, tugging at Louis shirt in frustration. They’re both far too gone to deal with strenuous activities like removing all of their clothes. Harry decides that Louis’ pants are much more important to remove, which are thankfully still unbuttoned. Louis’ hips are rolling in tight circles as he basks in the drag of his own clothed cock against Harry’s.
“Need you, Harry. Please, fuck me,” Louis’ head rolls back against the pillow as Harry pulls Louis’ pants and boxers down together.
“Kick off your shoes, sweetheart,” Harry sweetly demands. When Louis is naked from the waist down, Harry unbuttons his own skinny jeans, hating himself in the moment for how damn tight they are. He can’t even remove his shoes easily, so he just pulls his pants and briefs down to his mid-thighs, and reaches over for the nearly-empty bottle of lube, “Turn over on your belly, Lou. M’gonna fuck you so hard into the mattress.”
Harry moves himself back over Louis, leaning down and holding himself up on one elbow as he grips his cock with his other hand.
“Ready, love?” Harry asks as his tip is gently pressing against Louis’ hole.
“Yeah, stretch me on your cock, H,” Louis groans, face buried in a pillow comfortably.
And that’s exactly what Harry does. Gently and slowly, he stretches Louis much further than he had with his own fingers. He yelps into the pillow and tries desperately to remain relaxed.
Once Harry’s hips are touching Louis’ bum, he nibbles lightly on his ear, whispering softly, “Are you alright, baby? I know it burns.”
Louis turns his head to the side so that he’s audible, “It’s so full. Just gimme a sec.”
“Of course,” Harry coos, “Kiss me, baby.”
So Louis does, because Harry’s kisses are the best distraction he’s ever encountered, and truly the only thing that could take his mind off of the sting in his ass.
“Tell me,” Harry mumbles between openmouthed kisses, “when I can move.”
Louis nods, kissing Harry fervently, despite the angle, “I will. Just a second.”
Harry continues kissing him, trailing his hands down Louis’ back and gently squeezing his bum. Louis gasps heatedly, pushing his hips back slightly to test the waters.
“You can move now, please,” Louis’ voice comes out much more shaky and needy than he had intended, but it only drives Harry crazier. He pulls his hips back slowly, and after finding how easily he can move, surges them forward with more force than even he expected.
“S’this okay?” Harry doesn’t know how he would stop if Louis said no, but he’d find a way if he had to.
“Yeah, don’t-“ Louis speech is cut short by a breathless moan.
Harry softens his movements, kissing the back of Louis’ neck gently, “Don’t what, baby? Too rough?”
“Fuck no,” Louis grunts, pushing back again and lifting his head up, “Don’t stop. That’s what I meant. Please, Harry.”
Harry smirks to himself as Louis rests his head back on the pillow, allowing him to take all of Louis’ pliant body.
“God, every time we make love, I think, ‘It can’t get any better’ but-“ Harry’s eyes roll back in intense pleasure, “Then it seems like it gets so much fucking better.”
Louis moans in response, his body tensing as Harry presses in particularly deep.
“That’s probably because you’re rolling half the time, now go faster, babe,” Louis grips the edge of the mattress, awaiting the whatever Harry will give.
And Harry definitely gives.
He doesn’t slow down a bit until Louis is sobbing loudly into the pillow, crying out Harry’s name.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Harry rasps, covering Louis’ body with his own, rutting forward at a slower, but still very harsh pace.
“Yeah,” Louis chokes, “I’ve been on the edge for a while. Damned cocaine. Just-“ he arches his back as Harry holds his hips, “Just touch me, please.”
Harry stills his motions, pulling back and watching Louis squirm helplessly, “You’ve been such a polite boy, tonight. So needy for my dick. I’m not going to touch you, though. We’ve both done a bit too much in the way of stimulants, but your still gonna come on my cock and it’s gonna be so fucking intense-”
Harry’s words are cut short by Louis’ rough movements as he arches his back, sliding onto Harry’s cock completely, “Stop talking and just do it.”
Harry smirks, because he always love when Louis gets sassy in bed, “Alright, but you’re only going to come when I tell you to.”
Louis rolls his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, pushing his are back and forcing Harry onto his knees, “Yeah, yeah. Now, make me come.”
Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and rolls onto his back, pulling Louis with him easily, “If you’re going to act like that, then you can make yourself come, love.”
Louis sits up and balances himself on Harry’s thighs, “Okay, dear. And I’ll get the job done for us both.”
Harry is used to the endearing banter, and he’s even used to Louis acting this desperate. But, he isn’t used to this: him riding his dick, hiccuping between moans, and focusing to intently on getting off.
“Hey, baby,” Harry digs his fingers into Louis’ sides, “I’m just messin’. I’ll help you.”
Louis slows down, dropping hard on Harry’s cock, and begins rolling his hips back. Harry sits up and pulls Louis close to his chest. He breathes hotly on his neck, both of their bodies slick with sweat, “I’m so close, Lou. I’m going to touch you now.”
Louis nods frantically, grinding back with purpose as Harry meets his advance half-way. He reaches around Louis’ body and blindly searches for Louis’ cock as it slaps against his own thigh. He grips it loosely and allows Louis to fuck his hand as his head lolls back against Harry’s shoulder, “Fuck, I’m gonna come. Can I come, Harry? Are you there?”
Harry nods, biting roughly into Louis’ shoulder, groaning animalistically as he feels himself nearing the edge.
Harry grips Louis’ cock tighter and runs his thumb over the slit, enjoying the noises as Louis shudders and mumbles unintelligibly as he starts to come, an unexpected amount of spunk covering his torso.
“God, Harry, Love you, love you. So good. Shit, Harry,” Louis leans back, abandoning all control over his body. Harry continues to jerk him through it as he tumbles over the edge, his fingers bruising Louis’ skin as he holds him close. He sucks lightly and moans against Louis’ neck, unable to form actual words.
They stay this way for a while, Louis in Harry’s lap, laying back on his shoulder with Harry’s face buried him his neck. Their hair is sticking to their faces, slightly dripping in sweat.
“Babe,” Harry breaks the silence, feeling himself growing softer inside Louis, “Gonna have to pull out.”
Louis nods absentmindedly, allowing Harry to lift him off slowly. Come starts to drip out of Louis’ hole and Harry flips him back onto his stomach, immediately leaning down to lick softly at his rim. He tastes himself and hums as Louis hisses in oversensitivity.
“H- please, hurts,” Louis hides his face in his elbow and clenches his fists. Harry nods understandingly and stands up at the foot of the bed.
“I’ll be back; Gotta clean you up before you fall asleep,” and Louis may nod, but he’s also drifting off without knowing it.
........
When Louis wakes up, it’s to the smell of waffles. The only reason he knows it’s waffles is because Harry is going through a phase where all he wants to cook for breakfast, and sometimes other meals, is waffles because his sister bought him a waffle maker.
“Harry!” Louis calls from their bed, wrapped naked in a sheet. He looks down and he isn’t covered in dry come, so Harry must have cleaned him off, but he has no memory of it.
Before he knows it, Harry is standing in the doorway, which isn’t actually a door. It’s more of a walkway with a curtain hung to separate it from the kitchen and living room. Their flat isn’t much, but it’s more than enough for the two of them.
“Need something, sweetheart?” Harry is wearing a pair of tight black briefs and holding a spatula, his hair tied into a messy bun.
“Wanted a good morning kiss. I feel so disgusting; we really should have showered last night,” Louis states, standing up and ditching the damp sheet, “I have never sweat so much in my life.”
Harry meets Louis in the middle of the room, wrapping his arms around his waist gingerly, the handle of the spatially digging into Louis’ back, “I made you work for it, didn’t I?”
Louis scoffs, pecking Harry’s lips quickly, not wanting to smell his own morning breath, “The coke made me work for it. Why the hell do I do that to myself?”
“You’re just my little coke whore, aren’t you?” Harry smirks as Louis pretends to be hurt by his comment, “I’m only kidding. You should lay off it, though, unless you want it to be a serious issue. Next time you might not even be able to get it up.”
“As if,” Louis retorts, “I’m twenty-four, not fifty-five.”
“Yeah,” Harry grows serious, “But it won’t matter if you keep snorting coke every day.”
“Alright, I’ll stop if you stop rolling regularly. I know it doesn’t even have the same effect on you anymore anyway,” Louis grazes his fingers along Harry’s sides.
“Alright, fine,” Harry resolves, “No more coke and no more molly. Now, I must go because I’m pretty sure our bacon is burning.”
Harry starts to pull away, but he quickly presses his dry lips against Louis’ first, a silent promise for more later.
Louis grins to himself and turns around to get a good look at the mess they made last night. Clothes and shoes are strewn everywhere, and the sheets are darker in some places, probably damp from sweat and come.
Louis thinks about calling Harry in to clean, but he’s already cooking breakfast. So, he picks up some clothes that were carelessly tossed to the floor, and puts them into a neater pile, before stripping the bed and carrying the sheets out of their bedroom.
“Wow, stay exactly where you are,” Harry yells, taking Louis by surprise.
“What? Why? Is something on me?” Louis stands stricken, eyes wide.
Harry ignores him, grabbing his phone from the counter and pointing the camera at his still-naked boyfriend, “Even better,” He snaps a few pictures, some of which Louis is hiding his junk with the sheets.
“H- what are you doing, honestly,” Louis protests, continuing to walk over to the stacked washer and dryer.
Harry follows him and opens the door for him, “I’m just marking this day to remember.”
Louis tosses the sheets in and crosses his arms, “Remember for what exactly?”
Harry leans against the wall, framing Louis’ head with his arms, “The first time you ever changed our sheets. Four years together, and this is the first time.”
Louis blushes, rolling his eyes, “That’s not true. You’re a drama queen.”
“Nope,” Harry kisses his forehead briefly, “It’s the absolute truth, but I love you even though you don’t do your own laundry.”
Louis starts to argue that point, but knows that he can’t, “Alright, well, speaking of which, I don’t know how to work this space contraption, so can you start it?”
Harry risks and steps back, walking back to the kitchen, “No, Lou. You can do it. I have faith in you. The detergent and softener is in the pantry next to it. Just read the buttons and run it on normal.”
Everything Harry’s just said goes right over Louis’ head, but he sees two bottles to the right of the machines, and assumes that those are the things Harry was talking about. He pours a bit of each into the washer and shut the door. He presses the power button, turns the nob to normal, and presses start. It whirs to life, and Louis shrugs, hoping that he’s done it correctly.
He joins Harry in the kitchen and stands behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and feeling his chest as Harry removes a waffle from the maker. Louis kisses his shoulder and after Harry sets the waffle down, he turns around, placing his hands on either side of Louis’ face, “How about you go back the bong, and I’ll bring our food to the couch, alright baby?”
Louis nods, leaning up on his toes to kiss Harry’s nose, “There’s no one else I’d like to wake and bake with, love. We’re also taking a shower after.”
Harry chuckles and ruffles Louis’ already messy hair, “Of course, Lou Lou.”
They don’t take a shower. They get high, eat every last bite of the breakfast Harry had prepared, and pass out in each other’s arms on the couch.
...........
“Hey!” Niall yells drunkenly, “Look who finally fucking made it!”
Niall nearly trips over Zayn to get to Louis and Harry, hugging them both at the same time.
“Hello, Ni. Sick party,” Louis observes, glancing around at the large amount of people in the unfamiliar house, “Who’s is it?”
Niall gets closer, practically whispering despite the loud music, “Well, you guys met Zayn, right?”
Harry snorts, “No, we’ve heard enough about him, though. Aren’t you two, like, dating?”
“Shh! No one knows that,” Niall looks around in shock. Zayn is still seated, simply staring at the wall. If Louis had to guess, he’d say that Zayn was either tripping, or super fucking stoned.
“Well, anyway,” Niall continues, “This is his cousin’s place. He’s the DJ over there. I forget his damn name, though. It’s something unique or some shit.”
“Alright, well, this place is packed, but it seems like a good time, so cheers, mate!” Harry raises his non-existent glass, which Niall makes up for by chugging the remainder of his pint.
“Come on! I want to introduce you to Zayn!” Niall starts to walk back to the distracted lad, Louis and Harry in tow.
“Zayn, babe. These are my friends I was telling you about,” Niall yells over the music. Zayn looks up, his eyes fluttering before he can focus.
He stands up when he does, though, smiling kindly, “Nice to meet you; I’m Zayn.”
Harry extends his hand and Zayn shakes it, “I’m Harry,” he wraps his arm around Louis’ waist and Louis does the same and Harry continues to speak, “and this is my girlfriend, Louis.”
Louis smacks his chest playfully, giggling in embarrassment, as he shakes Zayn’s hand as well, “I assure you that I’m a man, so don’t let him confuse you.”
Zayn is still obviously out of it, but he laughs along with the rest of them before sitting down.
“I can show you guys to the bar,” Niall begins, but Louis looks down and notices the longing way Zayn is staring at him.
“No, it’s okay. We can find it. Loverboy is looking lonely,” Louis glances at Zayn and laughs when Niall blushes bright red.
“Okay, well, we will be around, so find me if you need anything,” Niall pats Louis’ shoulder before stumbling back onto the couch with Zayn who is waiting with open arms, pulling him onto his lap.
“I wonder why they’re trying to keep it quiet; It’s not like they act secretive about it,” Harry shrugs and gently guides Louis through the crowd, toward what seems to be the kitchen.
The house is absolutely huge. It looks like a nightclub, only with more couches. There’s even an actual bar, with real bartenders. The speakers that are set up are honestly louder than some concerts Harry and Louis have been to, and they’ve been to some loud shows.
“Listen, babe,” Harry speaks directly into Louis’ ear, “I’m going to scout out the bathroom, so how about you try to get us some drinks? I’ve got some cash, because I’m sure they’re charging.”
Harry pulls a wad of twenties from his pocket and hands a few to Louis, pecking his lips before walking the opposite way. He takes a staircase and ends up on the second floor, which seems mostly empty. It might be off-limits, but Harry doesn’t care in the least as long as he gets to take a piss.
He finds the bathroom easily enough, after opening a few doors to empty rooms, which he keeps in mind for later. He uses the restroom and washes his hands, so as to return to Louis as soon as possible. He checks that his hair looks decent before turning the lights off and heading back down the stairs.
Harry approaches the bar, eyes wandering along the crowd to find Louis, but the actual bar is impossible to see past the people. Harry starts to push people out of the way, hardly acknowledging them as he shoves them. There’s finally a clearing and the first thing Harry sees makes him want to vomit.
“Get your fucking hands off of him!” Harry yells, feeling the vein in his forehead become prominent.
A man he’s never seen before is leaning against the bar next to his boyfriend. He has his hand on the small of Louis’ back, his head resting against Louis’ as he speaks to him. Louis jerks away, but the man grips his side, pulling him in.
“I said,” Harry closes the space between himself and the scene before him in a few strides, grabbing the man’s collar, “To let him go, you fucking prick!”
Louis gasps as the man holds onto his shirt, making him stumble backwards. Harry glances at Louis to make sure he’s okay, and when he’s sure that he is, he pulls the man up with both hands.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Harry is so angry that he could spit. In fact, he probably is between words.
“Dude, get the hell off of me. I didn’t know he was yours,” the guy tries to push on Harry’s shoulders, but this only infuriates him further.
“He’s not mine. He is my boyfriend, and I’m his. I don’t own him, and definitely don’t. You fucking think that you have a right to touch him that way?”
The guy shrugs, pulling his hands back, “He was asking for it. Have you seen that ass? Honestly, props mate. I’ll lay off, though.”
That’s what tipped Harry over. The casual way he pretended that it was all okay. Harry lets go of the man, giving him false hope of escape before gripping his arm and punching him hard in the nose.
By now, everyone who had been standing near the bar is watching the scene in front of them, Louis cowering near the bar, partially in embarrassment, and partially in fear that Harry might actually kill this guy.
“You are a disgusting piece of shit, mate,” Harry scowls, hitting him again, this time in the jaw. He lets go of his arm and allows the man to fall to the floor. Only, he follows, towering over the heap of a man, and hitting him in succession.
The man pleads and a few other guys try to pull Harry off, but he isn’t stopping without ensuring that his point has been sufficiently made. He kicks the man once more, stepping onto his stomach to make his way toward Louis. With bloodied knuckles, he softly pulls Louis’ body to his and crashes their lips together. Harry can feel Louis moan into the kiss, and he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck to keep stable as a few people cheer from the crowd still standing around.
“C’mon,” Harry grunts into Louis’ neck, lifting him into his arms briefly, “Let’s get away from the noise.”
Harry sets Louis down and looks around as two guys help the man off of the ground, escorting him toward the back door. The guy isn’t passed out, so that should be the end of it. Harry keeps Louis close at his side as they make their way through the crowd, but most people step out of the way, obviously not wanting to get on Harry’s bad side.
Harry guides Louis up the stairs, directly to one of the many bedrooms he had passed only minutes ago. They slip into a dark room, and Harry blindly finds the switch on the wall, pulling Louis along with him. The room is empty, and the bed is still neatly made.
“This might be the classiest bed we’ve ever fucked in, Lou,” Harry laughs as he falls back onto the mattress.
“Maybe, but what about that time we went to Vegas and ended up in that fucking sick room?” Louis jumps onto the bed, landing halfway on Harry.
“Yeah, too bad we were drunk as hell,” Harry laughs at the memory, “We spent all the money I won on a fucking hotel room for two nights. We could have been responsible for once.”
Louis lays on Harry’s chest, absentmindedly examining his knuckles, “Yeah, but it was a really cool hotel room.”
Harry reaches over with the hand that Louis isn’t frowning at, and brushes the strands of hair away from his perfect blue eyes, “Leave it alone, Lou. My hand will heal just fine. I want to know how you are.”
Louis blinks rapidly, “I’m honestly fine, H. That guy was a douche, and I totally warned him that you wouldn’t be happy. Your other hand is still healing from yesterday. You’ll have to take a break from beating up assholes.”
“I believe you. He deserved what he got, and then some. He didn’t touch you or anything, right?” Louis is always surprised at how quickly Harry can go soft after a fight when Louis’ there.
“No, he didn’t. I promise,” Louis glances up through his eyelashes, rolling onto Harry’s body fluidly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, baby,” Harry runs his hands under Louis’ shirt, “It wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
“Yeah, but now I get protective, angry Harry, and you know how much I love that,” Louis kisses Harry, tongue sliding against his bottom lip, “especially in bed.”
Harry groans in delight, dipping his fingers under the waistband of Louis’ pants. Louis rolls his hips sharply, sighing contently as Harry manipulates the skin of his bum with his fingers.
Louis grinds roughly, arching his back to put on a show for Harry.
Harry gently pats his arse, nibbling at his jaw, “No teasing, baby. We can’t be in here too long.”
Louis giggles as Harry skims his fingers over his sides, forcing goosebumps to rise in their wake, “I’ve got an idea, Lou. Take your pants off.”
Harry pulls his hands out of Louis’ trousers and allows him to move. Louis sits up on his knees and start to unbutton his own jeans. Harry shoos his hands away and quickly undoes them, pulling them down over his bum. Louis moves off of Harry’s lap and rids himself of his pants entirely.
He stands quiet, awaiting his next instruction. Harry pulls off his own shirt and points for Louis to do the same. Harry unbuttons his own trousers, shimmying them down to his knees and leaving them there. He then pats his chest and glances at Louis, “Sit right here, love.”
Louis shies away for a moment before obeying Harry, straddling his chest with his arse in Harry’s face.
“Be a good boy and suck me off, baby. I’m going to lick you out now,” Harry places his palms on either side of Louis’ ass, spreading his cheeks to reveal his puckered, pink hole. Louis begins to slowly stroke Harry’s semi-hard cock.
He tentatively kitten licks at Louis’ hole, kissing the backs of his thighs when he feels him shiver in anticipation, “S’alright, I’ve got you.”
Louis nods, for his own benefit more than Harrys, before he leans down, nosing against Harry’s balls. Harry licks a thick line along Louis’ ass as Louis gently kisses where Harry’s thighs meet his pelvis. Harry lets go of Louis’ cheeks, burying his face between them because he loves the way it feels when Louis sits on his face. He pulls Louis closer by his hips, growing harder as he breathes thickly through his nose.
“Harry-“ Louis’ speech is faulted when Harry smacks his thigh, just hard enough to leave a red mark that disappears seconds later.
Louis gets the idea and arches over to take Harry into his mouth. He creates as much saliva as he can, spreading it along Harry’s entire length, sucking him down as deep as he can, gagging slightly as he first touches the back of his throat.
Harry moans against Louis’ hole, sending deep vibrations through his body. Louis hollows his cheeks, sucking sharply and closing eyes to really enjoy the feeling of being so close to his Harry. Harry has been the only constant thing in Louis’ life since he was nineteen, and he’s relied on him almost entirely since he was twenty. It doesn’t even bother him that Harry is younger and taking care of him. He’s fallen so far into the motions, that he doesn’t know how he would survive without Harry.
Harry slowly works Louis open until his tongue slips easily inside. He licks around roughly, knowing how much Louis loves to feel every movement. Harry can’t imagine doing any of this with another person. The thought alone makes him uncomfortable and unhappy. His face buried in Louis’ ass, just the way it is, is the only way he can see himself for the rest of his life. He makes a mental note to tell Louis something like this when he isn’t so close to coming down his throat.
“Harry, can you-“ Louis takes a break to speak, replacing his mouth with his hand tightly wrapped around Harry, “Touch me, babe.”
Harry nods, not removing his tongue. He reaches around Louis’ thigh and easily finds his dick trapped between their stomachs. He jerks Louis off quickly, trying to get him as close as he is. Harry groans deeply as he licks madly, using his free hand to feel how slick Louis rim is.
Louis moans in response, his thighs squeezing around Harry’s shoulders. Harry presses his thumb in alongside his tongue, pushing Louis over the edge. Louis sucks in a frenzy, out of his mind in ecstasy as he spills over onto Harry’s hand and abs. Harry bucks his hips uncontrollably and pulls his face away from Louis’ ass, continuing to stroke his cock gently. He curses under his breath, tossing his head back against the pillows while moaning Louis’ name eagerly, chasing his own orgasm with frantic convulsions. Louis swallows everything Harry gives him, a bit of come smearing on his lips. He sits up, turning to face Harry before licking his lips dramatically. Harry groans, still spasming and smiling idiotically.
“God, I love your mouth, Lou. And this ass. Jesus, I just love you,” Harry mutters opaquely. Louis giggles in post-ecstasy, laying next to Harry.
“I love you, too, Harry. You mean the world to me,” Louis nuzzles against Harry’s shoulder, closing his eyes sleepily.
“I was going to say something like that, baby. I could never care about anything as much as I care about you. You know that, right? I tell you enough, yeah?” Harry cuddles Louis close to his chest, breathing in the scent of his hair.
“Of course, Harry. I never question that. I’m so glad I have you to take care of me,” Louis kisses Harry’s chest a few times before laying down again.
“M’sleepy, H,” Louis mumbles.
“Me too,” Harry adds, eyes fluttering shut, “So, this is why we need drugs, huh? We’re useless and exhausted otherwise.”
Louis chuckles, tracing illegible patterns onto Harry’s side, avoiding the pool of come, “We are getting pretty old, you know? Maybe we should just stay home more.”
They both look at each other for a few seconds in silence before both breaking out into a fit of laughter. “There’s no place that I’d rather be, than in naked in a strange bed with you, my love,” Louis kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“Same for me, Lou. I wouldn’t mind a mid-week date night, though. Just you and me, a home cooked meal. We can even be lame as fuck and go see a film or something,” Harry leans over and gathers a few tissues from the box conveniently placed on the bed-side table, cleaning off both of their bodies.
Louis nods, kissing harry chastely, “I could enjoy that. Now, how about we clean off in a strange shower and get out of here? I’m still a bit stoned and I’m craving breakfast.”
Harry sits up, stretching his arms, groaning, “Alright, baby. You know I’m always down for waffles.”
“You and that damned waffle maker!” Louis laughs, “I think you love it more than me.”
“Never,” Harry assures, kissing his cheek sweetly, “Now, if the waffle machine got me off-“
His voice trails off and Louis playfully hits him, shrieking when Harry starts to tickle him, “I’m kidding, Lou. I love you more than waffles, drugs, and alcohol combined.”
“You’re so romantic, Harry,” Louis rolls his eyes, “No, really, you should write demented sappy love poems.”
Harry ignores the sarcasm in his voice and simply holds Louis close, “You’d read my demented love poems, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Louis admits honestly, “ Sadly, I would. I’m too in love with you for my own good, Harry Styles.”
“I’m too in love with you for your own good, too, Louis Tomlinson.”