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There were many things Harry loved about Louis, but perhaps his favorite was how Louis was a sure thing.
He didn’t think of it in a crude way (though he did often think of Louis in ways that were NC-17), but rather in a, “I’m gonna marry him someday,” way, which was a hundred times better in Harry’s eyes. It had been proven to the both of them on multiple occasions, most notably the time Harry creamed his pants when Louis called him his spouse.
“Harry—did you. Oh my God,” Louis muttered in fragments when it had happened, right before he burst into a fit of laughter that lasted so long he had claimed he was no longer hard (which was a big fat lie, but Louis loved to tease). It wasn’t Harry’s fault, though; the word spouse wasn’t used nearly enough and Louis shouldn’t have expected nothing to come of it when he said it. Harry reacted accordingly.
The whole incident had urged Louis to use more domestic terms at every opportunity—a public replacement for dirty talk, a way to ensure that they were going to fuck as hard and as long as their bodies would allow as soon as they got home.
Which brought him to present day: in Louis and Liam’s dorm with Louis resting his back against Harry’s chest and his head tilted up so he could see him, grazing his fingers over Harry’s neck and his jaw until he had his attention. “Sweetie. Boyfriend. Babe. Apple of my eye.” Harry stares at him expectantly, to which Louis leans in with a grin, whispering, “I think you’re gonna make for a great husband.”
Harry shifts, catching on quickly. “We both have early classes tomorrow.”
“Classes that we can skip because we have great friends that will e-mail us their notes,” Louis reasons, kissing Harry’s jaw sweetly. “I’ll let you teach me a lesson instead.”
Harry taps the tip of his toe against Louis’ ankle. “That was awful.”
Louis grins, placing an obvious hand over Harry’s crotch. “You’re getting hard.”
Harry doesn’t shove his hand away quick enough for the action to go unnoticed. “Jesus, just go and finish your weird foreplay out of our sight,” Liam says, catching the ball Niall throws his way.
“I think foreplay’s over. Think Harry’s already up for it,” Louis retorts without missing a beat, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him up. “Be a babe and take my room tonight, Niall?” He doesn’t wait for the affirmative answer they both know is coming, already tugging Harry from the couch and toward the door.
Niall scoffs. “Your room, which I sleep in six nights out of seven. Sure,” he replies carelessly, plopping onto the couch and making plans for the night with Liam while Harry allows himself to be dragged a few doors down until they reach his dorm.
They kiss the entire way there, which Harry used to find completely unnecessary and tacky of couples to do because how hard is it to wait until you’re in private, Christ. Until he met Louis, of course. The urgency was then not only understood, but multiplied.
“Want it to be dirty tonight,” Louis breathes between kisses, before the door is even shut. “Absolutely filthy.”
“As opposed to the rest of our vanilla sex life.” Harry tosses his shirt over his head, grabbing Louis’ hips and pulling him close. He kicks the door shut. “Handcuffs too simple for you? Want a full set of bondage gear to hide under my bed, is that dirty enough?”
Louis moans, rutting forward. “One day,” he admits. “Don’t care what it is tonight, just—just want it.”
Harry pauses, thinking as clearly as he could with Louis working at his neck to mark it with fresh love bites to replace the ones that were fading. He manages to maneuver them until they’re both on the bed, Harry underneath Louis while he moves up to nip Harry’s jaw. Harry tilts his head back in utter pleasure, catching sight of a bandana left hanging off of his headboard. He grins.
“You’re not naked enough for dirty yet, are you?” Harry teases, picking at the hems of Louis’ shirt. Louis throws it off without a second’s hesitation, rolling his hips down into Harry’s. He unbuttons his jeans and then Harry’s, kissing him on the cheek before planting his feet on the floor and shedding his pants and boxers in one movement.
Harry lifts his hips until he can slide his trousers off; it was more difficult than how Louis had gone about it, but it gets the job done without him having to leave the bed. Louis flops gracelessly on top of him as soon as Harry’s clothes hit the ground. “Hey,” he murmurs, offering Harry a playful smile. Harry beams back at him for a moment, the two of them completely still, and then grabs Louis by the sides and thrusts up so his cock ruts against his bum.
“Fuck,” Louis whimpers, smile disappearing, his thighs clenching around Harry’s hips in a way he finds way too appealing. Louis grinds back, his cock sliding against Harry’s abdomen. He starts moving faster when Harry quickens his pace, the breath being knocked out of the both of them as their bodies move in sync.
“We aren’t gonna,” Louis cuts off with a groan, fisting his hands into the sheets around Harry’s shoulders, “just dry hump each other, are we?”
“You love it,” Harry says instead of answering his question, attempting to smirk through his noises. “Bet you could finish like this in ten minutes.”
Louis doesn’t stop moving. “Probably five,” he confesses. “Haven’t done it like that since—freshman year?”
Harry nods, gripping the back of Louis’ thighs and using the leverage to fuck up a little faster. “Back of your car, both of us barely lasted a minute. Still went back to your dorm and fucked like rabbits.”
Louis groans. “I remember. Should do it again sometime.” He grabs at the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm. “Should get on with this right now, though. Unless you’d like to keep your dick on my ass instead of in it.”
“Definitely not.” Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ legs, flipping them over so he’s on top and grinning at Louis’ wide eyes. “Stop staring and get on your stomach, baby.”
Louis huffs, muttering about how it wasn’t his fault that some Paleolithic idiot flipped him like this in the first place. He turns over, though, and that’s all that matters as Harry reaches for the bandana. “Hands together,” he instructs.
Louis pushes his palms together right around the small of his back, shivering when Harry brushes the fabric against his wrists. He secures it easily, loose enough for Louis to be comfortable but not enough for him to slip out of it. Louis tugs on his new restraints experimentally, groaning, “Yes.”
“Ass up,” Harry half-demands, half-asks. Louis’ hips rise from the mattress until Harry puts a hand on him. Louis stops and waits.
Harry gets himself situated as quickly as he can, doesn’t want to waste his time skirting around it when he’s got Louis bent just right and his hands tied behind his back, God.
The first lick comes and goes in a second, followed quickly by another; Louis’ reacts by dipping his body even closer to the bed. Harry puts a hand on each cheek, spreading them and staring at Louis’ most intimate spot. It’s not as if Harry has much to compare it to save for a few porn stars, but he’s sure that every part of Louis’ body is the absolute prettiest he’s ever seen.
He sucks on Louis’ rim like he’s in a hurry, slipping his tongue in every couple of seconds just to hear Louis get louder. He starts grunting and groaning against the skin when he’s only two minutes in, doing his best to keep himself from fucking against the sheets at the noises Louis is making.
“Harry,” Louis mumbles, voice soft and sensual. He pushes his bum back against Harry’s face. “More, please.”
He can’t help but rut down a bit after that, just to relieve the building pressure on his cock. Reaching underneath him to give his cock a tug, he begins licking over Louis’ hole.
Louis buries his face into a pillow, moaning helplessly. Harry pulls away long enough to rub the pad of his thumb against him, reveling in Louis’ sounds. “Gets me so hot when you moan like that, babe,” he says. “Lets me know that you like what I’m doing.”
He pets over his hole again, gentle enough to drive Louis mad. Louis starts moving his hips back and forth then, urging Harry to spread his thighs even more and press down just enough for the very tip of his thumb to fit inside of him. He removes it a second later, watching the way Louis clenches around air in want.
Louis begins begging unashamedly. “I need it, Harry, please.”
Harry simply leans in and nibbles on his hole, wrapping his hands around the fronts of Louis’ thighs and pulling him closer. He slides his tongue inside again, funneling it before letting it fan out and stretch Louis’ willing body just that much more. He kneads his fingers into the flesh of his bum, moaning at the perfect taste of Louis.
He continues without interruption for a few more minutes before he starts to hear quiet sob-like sounds. Thinking he’s gone on too long with this for Louis to handle, he stops and turns his boyfriend onto his back.
Jesus, the sight he’s met with. Louis’ hands are still bound behind his back, leaving him looking more vulnerable than usual. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet, his lips bitten until they were puffy and pink. Instead of hearing Louis beg for him to stop like he’s expecting, Louis surprises him with a quiet statement of, “Not enough.”
Harry can’t help but to just stop and admire him.
Louis gets tired of that quickly enough, throwing back his head and thrusting his hips up in hopes that Harry will get the message.
“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll take care of you,” he says honestly, “Gonna finger you, nice and slow. Get you ready for my cock.”
It calms Louis down enough that Harry can grab for the lube in his nightstand. He pours it onto his fingers and lets it heat up a bit before tracing his index finger over Louis’ hole. He pushes it inside, staring down at Louis and asking, “How close are you?”
Louis swallows. “Could literally come at any second.”
It’s… hot. It’s hot, and Harry grins. “Yeah?”
Another finger slips inside. “Yeah,” Louis agrees. “Might—before you get in.”
Harry scissors them slowly, without hurry. “Just have to fuck another one out of you if you do.” Louis moans, pushing his hips down to get Harry’s fingers deeper. Noticing his reaction, Harry continues, “Wonder how many times I could make you come before I finish myself off. A few with my mouth and my hands, at least two with my cock.”
He feels Louis clench up around his fingers. “Baby,” he says in a low, coddling tone, running his free hand up Louis’ sides. Louis watches him intently, raising an eyebrow. “Daddy,” he retaliates.
And that’s. Not necessarily new, but something Harry seldom hears, something typically reserved for special occasions or incentive to get Harry to study for an exam or finish an important paper because Daddy was just Harry’s thing. Louis is staring at him in a way that makes him think he did it on purpose.
“Is that right?” he asks, finally squeezing in a third finger; Louis yelps quietly, then shrugs. “Said I wanted it dirty.”
Harry doesn’t say or do anything for a long moment, too busy staring Louis down and trying to keep from coming too soon. He leans down, his mouth hovering over Louis’ cock (he notes the hitch in Louis’ breath with a smug expression) before he kisses right above the tip, underneath Louis’ belly button. Louis tenses up and, without any warning, comes.
It hits Harry’s chin before he has the time to sit up. He quickly slides his fingers out of Louis and only spares a second to wipe them on the sheets, excited to watch Louis ride out the rest of his orgasm.
Louis coming has to be one of the hottest things Harry has ever witnessed—at first he would strain to keep quiet, but now he chants Harry’s name as loud as ever between whines and moans. His stomach always seizes up and relaxes in sync with the spurts of come from his cock, his head tossed back and his eyes shut.
Harry basically crumbles at the sight.
“Come on,” he says, because if he doesn’t do something now he’ll likely explode, “sit in my lap?”
Louis fumbles to his knees, only held steady by Harry’s insistent lips on his neck. He reaches for the bandana keeping Louis’ hands bound and unties it, deciding his poor wrists have been put through enough. Louis immediately wraps his arms loosely around Harry’s neck; Harry uses his leverage to pull Louis with him when he places his own back against the headboard. Luckily, Louis understands what he’s getting at as he reaches behind himself to grab Harry’s cock and sink down onto it.
“Lou,” Harry whines without thinking about it—Louis just feels so good.
Louis puts his palm against the side of Harry’s neck, using his thumb to tilt his head back. He starts sucking on the underside of Harry’s jaw, right where he’d spilled his load only moments ago. There’s something about Louis licking his own come off of Harry’s body that gets him harder than he thought possible (which is a mistake within itself, because Louis is his boyfriend).
He reaches for Louis’ hips, holding him while Louis eases them back and forth. “You’re a menace,” he mutters honestly, reaching back until he’s got his bum in his hands.
Louis continues sucking underneath his chin for a moment even after his come is gone, then pulls off and rests his arms back on Harry’s shoulders, rocking back in tiny movements that drive Harry insane.
“Wish I could stay inside of you all the time,” Harry groans out. Louis laughs softly. “Thought we were kind of sharing that, H.”
“We are,” Harry agrees. “You’re just so warm, and tight. Perfect.”
Louis laughs again and Harry can’t help kissing him, really, when he’s sitting on his cock and making such wonderful sounds.
In the middle of it, Louis squeezes around Harry’s cock and it shocks him enough that he thrusts up. The kiss breaks, Louis’ head falling to Harry’s shoulder with a tiny, barely-there sound. Encouraged, Harry does it again, then again, and again until Louis is back to whimpering out nonsense.
“Harry,” Louis murmurs breathlessly, the word sounding almost like a plea. He clings even closer to Harry’s body, rolling his hips back onto his cock along with Harry’s small thrusts. His noises come more frequently and in a higher pitch.
Harry grins. “Close again? Already?” Louis nods, panting, “I’m so close, Harry, fuck.”
“Me too,” Harry rushes out, tone giving away just how effected he is, “just don’t stop, Lou.”
Louis rides him in earnest, going as quickly as his thighs will allow while Harry just watches in awe. He really has a perfect boyfriend.
Maybe it’s because his sex-stupid brain is keeping him from thinking too much about things, but. “Marry me,” he blurts out in spite of the inappropriate setting.
Louis’ face is a mixture of shocked and familiar. “Is now a good time for this?” Louis asks, slowing down and sitting fully on Harry’s cock, grinding.
Harry grunts, attempting to steady his voice. “Always a good time for this,” he states, reaching a hand down to wrap around Louis’ cock. “Let’s get fucking married.”
Louis hums, letting a pause drag on for an excruciatingly long ten seconds. “Think I’ll tell everyone you proposed balls deep in my wedding speech.”
Harry can’t contain his grin at the implication of the sentence, his dimples on full display. “With all of our family present?” He starts touching Louis all over with no intentions of stopping, pinching at his nipples, groping his bum.
Louis whimpers softly, answering, “Your fault for doing it. Everyone will laugh, anyway, because you’ll be right beside me, blushing and beaming all at once.”
“Louis,” Harry groans, overwhelmed and already tired of talking about this when he can barely wrap his head around the situation. “We’re gonna—get married.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t already know that two years ago.” He kisses Harry, tangling his fingers into his hair with closed eyes while Harry can’t do anything but respond. When he pulls away, he’s grinning. “We’re gonna get married,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret, “buy a house, start a family, the whole lot.”
Harry leans forward until he’s got Louis on his back, his thighs around his waist. Being called his spouse made him come all over himself, but now that he’s agreed to all of this—he’s so turned on. “I love you,” he says, because that’s the only thing he can think about at the moment. He picks up his pace, fucks into Louis hard, fast, determined, watches the smile on Louis’ face disappear as his mouth forms an ‘O’. “Come, baby.”
Louis moans, clearly trying to keep from coming which just makes Harry go quicker. “Wanna come together,” he pants, “with—with my fiancée.”
His fiancée, and like. That’s Harry. “Fuck, I’m close, Lou, I’m coming.”
Harry jerks him off quickly, the warm feeling of his impending orgasm already settling in his stomach. Louis’ heels are digging into his back and that’s it, apparently; Harry comes with a groan. “Louis,” he says, like a plea, jacking him off without missing a beat.
Louis lets out his loudest noise yet and comes a second later, turning to quiet moans and declarations of love that Harry couldn’t miss if he tried as he rides it out. “Love you, too,” he mutters in response, flipping onto his back beside of Louis.
It’s quiet for a comfortable moment, Louis busy calming himself down and Harry trying to catch his breath. There’s no use in Harry trying to think straight because all his mind is now is a blur of Louis and weddings and houses and children.
Once he’s recovered, Louis turns onto his side. “You flipped us to the foot of the bed, you brute.”
Harry focuses on the Louis part of his brain and drapes an arm over him, pulling him close. “Shower?”
Louis gives him an overly seductive look, causing Harry to roll his eyes and slide off the bed. “Come on.”
He watches him limp to the bathroom with a self-satisfied grin.
~~~
Harry wakes up the sight of Louis securing one of his own snapbacks over his head; he groans. “Thought we weren’t going to class.”
Louis meets his eyes with a smile. “You’re finally awake. It’s half past noon, so no classes. Lunch, a celebratory one.”
It confuses him for a second before memories of last night come creeping back into Harry’s brain. He remembers the hot sex, the mildly-inappropriate proposal, more sex, followed by a shower that lead to blow jobs. It’s his favorite night he’s lived so far.
He smiles sleepily. “Because you’re marrying me.”
“No, because you’re marrying me,” Louis corrects him, kissing his cheek before removing the blanket, leaving Harry’s naked body exposed to the cool air and sunlight streaming in through their blinds. Harry is shameless, though, so he simply spreads himself out over the entirety of the bed and stares at Louis with a small smirk.
Louis huffs. “Get dressed.”
Harry pointedly looks Louis up and down. “I would, but it looks like someone’s stolen my clothes.”
Louis shrugs. “I didn’t touch your low cut shit, Harry. Not like you don’t have enough to spare.”
It was true. He was used to Louis nabbing his shirts, enough so that he had relocated his own shirt drawer and left Louis’ favorites in the original. He hadn’t gotten around to telling him, however, and he didn’t plan on it now that he could use it to tease him.
“I suppose I can spare one for you,” he mutters. A few seconds pass and he doesn’t make any move to get out of bed, to which Louis glares at him and starts tapping his foot impatiently. Harry thinks it’s cute and only becomes even cuter when Louis attempts to pull him out of bed. “You’re the fucking worst in the mornings, I swear.”
Harry gets out of bed and delivers a kiss to Louis’ cheek. “Love you too.”
He can’t imagine a better person to marry.