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Liam comes off-stage feeling red-faced and embarrassed and so turned on he reckons it must be obvious to everyone who sees him.
He can't believe it actually happened, the music starting just as he was about to speak, cutting him off like he wasn't even there. Louis's laughter is still ringing in his ears, cut through with Niall and Harry shouting at him, and the image of Pete fucking Wentz smiling at him like he's a toddler who's done something silly is burnt into his brain.
His heart is beating so hard it feels like it's trying to burst out of his chest. He has to calm down, has to remember to breathe and let the rest of the night run on autopilot. He can do this; it's his job, for fuck's sake. The shock is thankfully fading already as he turns it into a story in his head, a funny anecdote he can use in interviews later tonight and during the next album press cycle. He memorises it like he learns the lyrics to a new song, each word having a beat to hit, an emotion to draw on. And if he keeps to himself how it struck him low in his belly when he was made to look like an idiot in front of everyone he admires, tucks that feeling away to be taken out later when he's alone and naked with his cock in his hand, no one needs to know.
With his hands steady and his eyes focused again, he's ready to go back out into the audience for the rest of the show. He turns and looks around for the others, not seeing them among the PAs and techs. He's about to ask someone if they happen to know where his band have got to when Louis's arm hooks around his neck and pulls him deeper backstage.
"Lou, I think we're meant to go back to the audience now," Liam says, but Louis ignores him and drags him along into a disabled loo, shutting the door behind him.
"Didn't you get the memo, Liam?" Louis asks, one hand bracing Liam back up against the door and the other flicking the lock.
"What?" Liam tries, but Louis's hand covers his mouth in response and shocks a moan out of Liam.
Louis leans in close, the entire length of his body pressed up against Liam's. "You don't get to talk."
Liam shudders, his heart racing at the thought of Louis doing this here, mid-show. But when Louis pulls away a little and catches his eye while uncovering Liam's mouth, Liam keeps quiet. Using his safeword is the furthest thing from his mind.
Louis's eyes sharpen, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "That's right, they made that perfectly clear, didn't they?" he asks, hand slipping down to Liam's trousers and squeezing his dick. The pressure of his fingers is just on the right side of too much, Liam needing to bite down hard on his lip to keep quiet. "And everyone saw it happen."
Liam can't help the whimper that he lets out, his hips pushing forward into Louis's hand. He's trying to keep quiet, but it's impossible when Louis is looking at him like that.
"Thousands of people in the crowd, but we're on live television, Liam," Louis continues, getting Liam's trousers undone and pulling his cock out of his pants. He starts wanking Liam, his fist almost too tight around the shaft, squeezing hard on every stroke. "Millions of people saw what happened."
Liam chokes on his next inhale, his heart pounding in his ears as he draws in a ragged breath. His hands are in fists at his side, his entire body tense and thrumming as Louis takes him apart with his hands and his voice.
"All our fans must be thinking, 'oh no, Liam,'" Louis says, voice lilting and mocking, his fist still working Liam's dick. His other hand pushes Liam's shirt up to his collarbone, baring his belly and chest, and his fingers slip back down and unerringly find Liam's nipple for a hard pinch. "The video will be everywhere."
"No," Liam says, breaking the rules, but it doesn't matter, because--
"Yes, Liam," Louis says confidently, his hand getting more and more slick with Liam's pre-come as he strokes him. "You know it's true; everyone will see it forever, and everyone will remember it, too. How embarrassing."
Liam finally gives in with a cry, come shooting up onto his belly in hot pulses, his whole body shaking against the door. He twitches through the aftershocks as Louis continues to stroke him, milking it out of him, thumb squeezing his foreskin up over the head and smearing the final spurt of come onto his stomach.
"There," Louis says with satisfaction, taking a step back and looking at Liam like he's admiring his work.
Liam's cock gives a final jump at the thought of what he must look like, his trousers open and cock out, shirt pushed up and scarf almost hanging off his shoulders. He's still panting, his face flushed and sweat beading up his back, to say nothing of what's slowly dripping down his belly. He feels fantastic. "Grab me a paper towel?" he asks, his voice a bit creaky but not too bad, all told.
But Louis shakes his head slowly. "No, I don't think so," he says, stepping close and pressing the palm of his hand against Liam's stomach and smearing the come further up his chest, rubbing it in.
"Louis," Liam gasps, the hot shame in his belly flaring up again. His skin feels tacky, the drying come catching on the hairs on his chest.
"There we go. Now tuck yourself back in, unless you want your willy hanging out for everyone to see," Louis says, his eyebrow cocked. Liam flushes and looks down to avoid Louis's gaze, holding still until Louis steps over to the sink to wash the mess off his hands. Then he works quickly but carefully to get his trousers done up without brushing his arms on his belly. He imagines bits of his dried come sticking to his jacket sleeves, thinks about what people would say about him if they knew, and he almost decides to ask Louis again for some loo roll, to tell him he can't do it.
But then he looks up to see Louis stood before him again, drying his hands off on a towel, and he looks so proud and pleased that Liam knows he'd do far worse than possibly go out in front of cameras with a little come on his sleeves if Louis asked him to. "See, it's dry already," Louis muses, shifting closer and grabbing Liam's shirt where it's still pushed up into his armpits. He carefully pulls the hem out toward him, tugging the shirt down over Liam's body until his belly is covered. Liam holds his breath as Louis fusses with his scarf, fingers brushing over his neck and then down his chest as he fixes Liam up. "Now no one but me will know what a messy boy you are underneath all that," Louis says, hand patting Liam's belly.
A wave of utter security and safety flows through Liam, like it always does when he has a secret and the only person in the world who knows it is Louis. "Your messy boy," Liam says confidently, his belly swooping with pleasure when Louis smiles back at him, absurdly proud.
"Always."