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"Fuck," is the first thing Harry says that morning, when he steps on his laptop charger after crawling out of his bed. It's his own fault, really, the constant mess all around his room.
He repeats the same thing after he realises that he's late and Zayn is already pounding on his door with his fists, yelling at the top of his lungs, neighbour from upstairs shouting down the staircase, loud music from The Casualties already roaring through Harry's speakers.
Violence, in your life, the stereo screams, Violence, in the streets.
And Harry thinks that maybe - yeah, that makes sense, because he just peeked out of his bedroom window when passing by to notice a kid pushed against the wall somewhere outside, pained look on their face.
"Harry, open the damn-" Zayn shouts one last time before Harry steps carefully over the scattered items of clothing, eyeing the t-shirt here and something else that looks much like a too-tight pair of jeans there, and he opens the front door.
Zayn looks tired, sort of, with dark circles under his eyes - maybe it's just the smoky eyeliner, really, - but his hair is tucked under a black beanie, stolen from Harry the day before - or maybe the day before that - and the young boy can't tell if Zayn's had a late night or if he's high.
That's the thing; Zayn's hair holds secrets.
"You overslept," Zayn states simply after he is finally let into the darkness of the flat, heading straight towards the kitchen, disgusted look shining in his brown eyes. Harry grins.
"I indeed overslept," Harry repeats, confirming words. "I did, but I'm up, and you have to wait right here," He says with an exaggerated yawn, glancing one last time at Zayn who was pouring Mountain Dew into a glass, before exiting the room.
His usual routine was to wake up at eight thirty five, hop in the shower to wash the smell of cigarettes from his hair, the dark make up off his face from the night prior. He circles his eyes with clear black lines straight after anyway, which doesn't make much sense to Zayn or even to Harry himself, but it's not like it matters, really.
So that's what he does, but he pulls clean black jeans out of his wardrobe, which is a big accomplishment and perhaps some sort of sign that today is a special day.
He is finishing using up the second can of hairspray just as Zayn knocks on the door.
"I'm waiting down in the car," He yells through the door, and Harry groans. "And turn that shit off,"
Harry peeks through the door in time to flick him off, and no, he doesn't turn the stereo off, instead leaving it on at possibly the highest volume, before following Zayn down, slinging his coat over his shoulders.
"Where is it, then?" Harry asks him, struggling to clip his iPod into place on the dock, and Zayn rolls his eyes.
"Westheath pets," He reads out loud from google, turning the key, and Harry roars with laughter. "None of your shitty music, please,"
"Shut it, you," Harry replies with a sigh, leaning back in the car seat comfortably, linger of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. And Zayn grins, a little.
"Fuck," is also the first thing Harry says when they step through the doorway of the dreaded petshop, eyes widening almost comically at the rows of cages lined up neatly against the walls.
His breath kind of hitches when he follows Zayn towards the cashier, the older boy not paying any attention to his surroundings. Petshop, bullshit, Harry thinks, staring into the eyes of a small dog. He'd always hated chihuahuas, anyway.
"Hi - we'd be here to collect the cat hybrid?" Zayn says to the cashier, who finally looks up. It's a man about thirty, with a bald head and crystal eyes and a constant frown on his face.
"Name," He murmurs under his breath, and Harry barely catches it.
"Za-"
"Styles, Harry," The younger boy steps in, tapping his fingers nervously against the dirty desk. He can still hear the roaring music in his left ear where he left the earphone in, and he thinks he might feel kind of sick.
Harry doesn't ever feel nervous.
Or – not before today happened, anyway.
He follows the man in silence, and Zayn's clinging onto Harry's coat sleeve as they make their way through the narrow corridor of cages. Rabbits, he reads, and there's a small one with brown and black and white fur with bright red eyes, and it reminds him of Zayn, kind of. The bloodshot eyes, anyway.
They get to the cats, and there's about a million cages with kittens and kittens and more kittens and fucking gigantic cats at the end, sprawled over the floor of their cages, meowling with lazy eyes at the sight of visitors.
At the very end, Harry notices him.
There's a small blonde boy with his head tilted down, pale white ears covered in a smooth layer of thin fur pressed down against his head, face pressed between the bars - his hand reaching out, grasping another.
The hand he's grasping belongs to a long, smooth, tanned arm, which belongs to a short, smooth, tanned body. Harry almost goes through cardiac arrest when his eyes reach the boy's face, actually. He has his eyes squeezed shut, and he has those pretty arched eyebrows, and a gorgeous little nose, with lips as pink as the petals of a rose that Harry saw through one of the flower shop windows a few days ago.
The boy shifts a little, as if feeling the gaze on him, and opens his eyes. They're crystal blue and Harry wants to cry.
There's a pair of ears on top of his head, not flat unlike the blonde's, sticking upwards through the messy hair on his head. There's also a long, long, long tail that is slightly sticking out from where he's sitting on it, curling ever so slightly around his hip.
Harry never has seen anything, anyone so pretty and he's about to faint.
Zayn nudges him into consciousness, and he turns to stare at the dark-haired boy with wide eyes. The older one sighs, stepping forward to kneel down in front of the smaller cage. The cashier doesn't seem amused. Harry doesn't follow.
"Hey there, lad," Zayn says quietly, trying to keep his voice as calm as he can and his eyes fixed on the brown-haired boy in front of him, not trailing away towards the pale blonde who sat in silence, having pulled his hand away and tucked himself in the corner of his own cage.
"Louis," the cashier breaks the uncomfortable silence, and the brunette's eyes snap upwards, wide with fear. "They're taking you, yes? You behave yourself, like the good little kitten you are,"
Louis nods slowly, taking in the words that he knew and Harry's pretty sure he isn't breathing anymore. With a perfect face and perfect blue eyes and a perfect name - Louis, Louis, Louis - and, no, Harry can't really handle it so he sits down on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs, fingers gripping the surface.
Louis' eyes trail down Zayn's face, trying to understand why and where and what, and he only looks behind at Harry when the said boy sits himself down with a heavy sigh.
Harry can feel the blue eyes watching him with curiosity and questions that he doesn't have answers to, and the cashier clears his throat.
"You're taking him, then, or what?" He asks with a little scowl, and Harry shoots up.
"Yeah - it's, um - all paid, right?"
With a nod, the cashier steps forward to pull the chain with a thousand and five keys dangling off it from his pocket, unlocking the door to the metal cage.
Louis tilts his head to the side, eyes watching with fascination, before he crawls out of the cage with such delicacy.
He doesn't dare to touch Louis when Zayn pulls the small body closer to his, turning to make their way back through the corridor. Modern day slave, The Casualities shout into his ear, and Harry stares at the caged animals.
And, well - Louis. At least he's got Louis out of this place; as if on cue the small boy turns around, frightened look on his features.
"Niall," He says in a high voice, and it cracks, and so does Harry's heart. The cat boy glances up at Zayn with big eyes and after getting the small nod of confusion and somewhat approval, he repeats "Niall," and he’s crawling across the dirty floor towards the other cage, where the blonde boy is sitting with his legs crossed.
Louis meowls loud, sound filling the whole room and Harry's ears, and he presses the pause button on his iPod. Niall meows back, and it's weird.
It's all weird, really, especially when Louis leans through the bars to kiss Niall's cheek gently, and the boy pats his head awkwardly, Louis scrambling off the floor with a last meow, turning back to Zayn.
When they get into Harry's flat, Zayn reaches to cover Louis' ears instantly. Harry smirks at the forgotten loud music and when they scramble up the long staircase the elderly neighbor is standing in front of his door, fist pounding against the wood.
Harry taps his back.
"You're-" The man starts, staring vacantly, but pauses in an instant when he sees Louis. Louis is curled up and pressed against Zayn and his tail is hanging limply, and he might be a little confused.
"Move," Harry says, shoving past the man to unlock the door. "Please," He adds, just for good measure, and the old man turns to make his way back up to his flat with millions of thoughts running through his head - but that's where he belongs, anyway.
Harry turns the stereo down with shaky hands when he notices Louis' terrified expression and the ears pressed flat, hidden under the mess of straight hair, and Zayn leads him into the flat.
"I'm leaving you," Zayn states a few long hours later when they're sitting on the sofa, Harry's head leaning on his shoulder comfortably. Harry looks up, confused.
"What?"
"I'm leaving you," Zayn repeats. "And Louis. He's your cat,"
Harry glances down at the kitten, sitting on the floor in the same position as he was two hours ago, scrambling off the sofa when Zayn gently placed him down amongst the cushions. His body is small - so small, compared to Harry's tall figure, and he nods. Louis looks up and meets Harry's eyes reluctantly.
Zayn heads out, pressing his lips to the side of Harry's jaw, muttering a 'good luck' in quiet voice into his ear, and Harry nods, kneeling down on the floor when the front door slams shut. He can see black, his eyes are itchy, and he decides that he hates eyeliner.
"Louis, right?" He asks quietly, and the kitten nods once, not looking up from where he was threading his fingers through the thin fur on his tail. "'M Harry, and you're going to be living with me. That's fine, yeah?"
Louis repeats the action, one small nod of his head downwards. Harry sighs.
"Can you talk?" He asks after a few long minutes of causing his knees pain, and Louis looks up through his fringe. He meowls, quietly, a few times, and squeezes his eyes shut, pout on his lips.
Harry takes that as a no.
"Real shame, that. I heard you saying that blonde's name," Harry says quietly, and Louis sighs. "Niel? Niall?"
"Niall," Louis croaks out, voice identical to before in the pet shop, and Harry hums.
"Was Niall your friend?" Harry questions, and Louis - nods, again, once, and Harry gives up. "Come, then," He says, reaching his hand towards Louis who stares at it in confusion.
He bathes Louis, the boy crying out when the warm water enveloped him, tail falling down to the bottom of the bathtub. Harry's heart flutters when Louis reaches forward to run his fingertips over the smoky rings around Harry's eyes after a while with his lips parted, eyes wide and glassy.
He looks at Harry as if to say what, and Harry simply shakes his head, reaching over to run his fingers, slick with shampoo through the fur on the boy's tail.
Harry turns the music a little lower that night when the kitten's ears press flat against his head and he remembers to wash his eyeliner off.
Louis curls up on the floor next to his bed.
There's no point in asking, you'll get no reply the muffled noise comes through the speakers, Oh just remember I don't decide
Harry sneaks one last glance in Louis' direction, and the boy is curled around himself, tail across his body and ears flat as his head sinks into the pillow.
Louis adapts.
The younger boy makes him breakfast and leaves to sit in the abandoned warehouse at the outskirts of town, listening to his music. He promises Louis he will take him there one day, and the kitten stares at him with wide eyes, lips parted in fascination.
They grow closer, eventually. Harry learns that Louis likes having his hair washed, doesn't want water in his face, he does not appreciate Harry's punk shit (as Zayn names it so) in the middle of the night, hiding his face in the blanket.
Sometimes, Harry hears his quiet cries. He's clutching the pillow and whispering the blonde cat’s name and Harry wonders what the fuck - but perhaps it's because that's the only word the boy knows.
Or he misses his only friend, a voice in his head yells at him.
It's the third of November when he's sitting on the abandoned mattress inside of the warehouse, earphones in, eyes shut, when he properly thinks about Louis.
Leaving the kitten at his flat on his own wasn't the wisest idea of all - first few times Louis managed to break the coffee table, second time the boy got so stressed that he knocked over Harry's laptop, ugly crack separating the left of the screen from the right.
He didn't ever step on the charger cable, not yet, and lucky him, Harry thinks.
He opens one eye to glance out of the shattered glass - window, apparently - and he thinks that maybe, he should be getting back.
When he arrives back at the flat, he's welcomed with a strange silence. It's unusual, because it's never silent with Louis. It's either something breaking or shattering or being knocked over, but-
He stops without turning the lock when he notices Louis.
The kitten is pressed against the bedroom doorframe, hips rocking in tight circles against the wood, head thrown back, fingers - nails - digging into the wall, holding on tight.
Harry almost dies right on the spot.
He doesn't move until Louis' movements become more frantic, tiny gasps escaping his lips as he clutches onto the wall, tail standing tall against his back.
"Louis-" Harry starts, quietly, and the boy instantly jumps back, hands shaking and eyes searching for the source of the voice. They stop on Harry and his pupils are blown wide.
He meowls loudly out of a sudden, and Harry takes a step back.
"Lou - Louis, fuck, I'm sorry," He utters out, eyes widening at the sight of the boy in front of him. "I'll - I'll go,"
"No," Louis croaks out, and he steps towards Harry shakily. He feels like his knees are about to give out and Harry takes note of Louis speaking to him for the first time ever, before the kitten was standing eye level in front of him. "No, no,"
"Louis," Harry groans out, reaching forward to tangle his fingers in the mess of soft hair. He leans forward hesitantly, pushing the boy against the wall which he was grinding against in desperation only a few minutes ago. He breathes in shakily, watching the kitten grip his wrists, body pressed against the wall, long eyelashes fluttering. "Fuck, Lou-"
"Oofh-"
Louis' attempt at forming words is cut off when Harry leans forward to press his mouth to the kitten's. It's kind of rushed, with noses bumping uncomfortably and Louis muffles a giggle, gasping into Harry's mouth when he feels a hand trail its' way to the waistband of his tight sweatpants.
"My beautiful kitten," Harry breathes when he leans back to examine Louis' face, taking in the unrealistically long eyelashes, the eyes, bright with lust - and the slight trace of whiskers. "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous for me," He adds quietly, leaning forward to kiss the side of Louis' face, fingers dipping under the material of the sweats, tracing the skin.
"H-Har-" Louis tries, his head falling to rest on Harry's shoulder, breathing heavy and desperate as Harry's hand slips into his boxers, fingers barely tracing over his length.
Harry mumbles something that doesn't sound like anything, dragging his fingers over Louis' cock exceptionally slow. He locks his lips with Louis' once again, leaving behind a trail of pale black lipstick.
He's not stereotypical, no.
Louis keens high in his throat, hips bucking upwards, and Harry pulls his hand back, instead curling his arm under the boy's thighs.
"Okay?" He breathes against Louis' hot skin, and Louis nods once, twice.
When Harry carries Louis into his bedroom and drops him down into the pile of pillows on his bed, he wonders what on earth he's doing. His mind is racing, heart pounding at an uneasy pace against his chest, but it must be the same for Louis, because when he looks over at the him, the boy is staring back with eyes wide open and tail curling shyly.
"You - can you-" Harry mumbles, but cuts off with a low groan when Louis crawls forward on all fours, stopping right in front of him. He catches his eyes in a quick moment, before gently pushing Harry back to fall into the mattress, hands on shoulders, and Harry takes in a quick intake of breath.
Louis' on him in a second, dragging his fingers down Harry's chest, nuzzling his nose into the sharp collarbone, his thin whiskers expectantly pleasant against Harry's milky skin.
"Jesus Christ, Louis, fuck," Harry splutters out when Louis pins him into place, hands steady on his shoulders to hold him still - and he grinds down onto Harry's crotch. "Fuck, no- wait, Louis, oh god,"
He can't do much but throw his head back into the duvet, growl growing in his throat as Louis rocks down onto him, Harry feeling his jeans growing tighter by every second. He can feel Louis when the boy happily grinds at an unsteady pace, whining a little every so often.
Harry only pushes him off when he feels his cock growing uncomfortable in his tight jeans, Louis staring back at him in confusion.
"Har-Haz," He stutters out, and Harry cracks his eyes open lazily, feeling a smile growing on his lips. Louis smiles back, soft yet unsure, leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to the left of Harry's mouth.
"Right," Harry mutters when they pull back and Louis' hands are pulling his shirt over his head. "Right, right,"
He's oddly nervous - he never is, not really, that's why it's all weird but it's not like it matters, really, with Louis pulling at his shirt, eventually throwing it on the floor. The kitten sat forward and gently dipped his sharp teeth into Harry’s neck, making the boy breathe out a shaky gasp, his hands roaming Louis’ bare back.
“Haz,” Louis whines again, pressing open-mouthed kisses against Harry’s soft skin – making his heart flutter.
“Y-yeah, honey? Tell me what you want,” Harry manages to say, his throat dry and his eyelids fluttering at the feeling of Louis’ warm lips caressing his skin softly and gently.
Louis’ eyes are wide and watery when he meets Harry’s gaze, and he slowly pulls back, lying himself down on the pillows, his legs falling open.
Harry doesn’t have time to breathe.
He instantly moves forward to tug Louis’ sweats off, his slender fingers pulling the material down his legs swiftly, letting it pool around his ankles before tugging them off completely, leaving Louis’ legs bare.
His skin is beautifully sun kissed, legs long, lazily spread out especially for Harry. That thought made Harry feel kind of light-headed, so he leans forward to sink his teeth into Louis’ thigh, making the boy arch off the mattress, mouth falling open in a silent scream as Harry soothes over the bite mark with his tongue.
“M’ gonna make you nice and ready for me,” Harry grunts out, reaching forward to trace the outline of Louis’ boxers, the boy whimpering beneath him, fingers threading, clinging onto the bed sheets beneath him. “Gonna open you up until you’re ready for me, yeah?”
Louis meowls out loud at Harry’s words, turning his head onto the side so that he’s lying on his right cheek, his back arching off the mattress instantly, hips looking for friction.
“Is that what you want, Lou?” Harry asks him, watching Louis closely as his hand blindly searches for the bottled lube in the bedside table, fingers running over the pockets of condoms, pausing briefly. He remembered the papers from the shop stating that Louis was clean – and so was he.
Louis meowls in desperation, and Harry can tell that he’s beginning to get stressed. His eyes are clenched shut and he’s mouthing words, trying so hard to get them out for Harry to hear, despite the task being almost impossible, especially since he’s in a state like this. He’s silently begging.
“Haz,” He repeats instead, and Harry quickly learns that it’s the second word Louis ever learnt to say.
"Yeah, babe - hold on," Harry mutters before he's up on the bed again, his slim body leaning over Louis', mouth on the kitten's neck. "You're so beautiful, Lou,"
"Haz," Louis says softly, arching forward into Harry's touch where his lips were gently nibbling on his neck.
"Yeah," Harry mumbles, finally pushing his fingers under the elastic and gently tugging the material down Louis' legs, his lips parting as he watched the boy's thighs tremble in a shiver ever so slightly where they are spread for Harry, his cock angry and red, bobbing up against his stomach. Harry can hear himself groaning. "Fucking Christ, Louis,"
The boy blushes for a second, a pretty pink dusting both his cheeks before he reaches up with one hand clenched into a fist to rub his eye carelessly, outstretching his other arm in front of him, hand clutching the air in a motion as if he wanted to grab the younger boy. "Haz,"
"Yeah, babe, I'm not going anywhere. You're - you're so gorgeous, Lou," Harry huffs out a nervous laugh as his eyes once again wander down over Louis' soft stomach, his dick and legs.
A soft smile appears on Louis's lips, the corners curling upwards as he stared at Harry.
Harry smiled back at him, uncapping the lube bottle and pouring out a fair amount onto two of his fingers. He glances up at Louis with a smirk as he notices the boy staring at his fingers in curiosity.
"I'll open you up, yeah? Make you ready for me, Lou," Harry tells him quietly, before he props Louis up with a pillow under his back, hands clutching his thighs in an attempt to push them even further apart as he settled himself down between Louis' legs.
"O-oh," Louis huffs out a quiet gasp when Harry's warm breath hits his thighs, and his whole body arches upwards, only stopped when the younger boy holds his hips down with a firm hold.
"Stay still," Harry tells him, thumbs gently massaging over where he clutched onto the boy's skin.
"Oh, Haz," Louis meowls out, huffing out through his nose and sighing softly.
"T's alright babe, relax," Harry said softly, despite his own nerves kicking in. He gently held Louis down, taking a shaky breath in before finally dipping his head between the boy's spread out legs.
He gently nipped on his upper thighs, only pinching the skin slightly with his teeth, making Louis' fingers clutch and thread through the bed sheets, holding on tight as he mouthed non-coherent words, followed by a whine of "Haz,".
Harry finally leans in, not sure of his own actions as he gently brushed his lips over the boy's hole, making Louis bubble out a high pitched whine as he attempted to clutch his thighs together, only holding tighter around Harry's head.
"Alright, babe?" Harry mumbles, warm breath on Louis' entrance. When he felt the boy's fingers shyly dipping into his hair, only slightly holding onto the locks, he smiled a little before leaning in again.
He licked messily, making it easier for himself before kissing the hole and finally dipping his tongue inside with practiced ease.
"O-ooh," Louis lets out a broken moan, writhing beneath Harry's hold and tongue. "P-pl- Haz,"
"Yeah, Lou," Harry mumbled, unsure whether the boy could hear him anyway. He licked wetly into his hole, slicking up the entrance with his tongue as Louis' legs tightened around him, bringing his face even closer.
Louis' mouth has fallen open and his eyes were shut, silent moans escaping the back of his throat as he attempted to push back on Harry's face, fingers gently threading through the boy's curls.
When Harry finally sat up, hands still on Louis' thighs, keeping them spread out, the kitten groaned at the sight. His pupils were blown wide with tears pinching the corners of his eyes, his hair messy as it crowned his head and his lips red in a tiny pout.
"You taste lovely," He informs Louis in a quiet voice, before climbing up on the bed, settling his hands on either side of Louis' head, dipping his head down to kiss the boy on his mouth.
"Haz," Louis says. His voice sounds strained as if he's in pain and Harry smiles against his neck, glancing down at the rock hard cock now beginning to leak against the boy's stomach.
"Shh, babe. I'll help you with that," He whispers into Louis' ear before moving back down again, mouthing over the boy's stomach, lips ghosting over the soft skin. He huffs out a little breath once he reaches Louis' dick, and he uses his tongue to gently lick the side.
Louis reacts - instantly.
His head snaps upwards, eyes blown wide, teeth chewing his lower lip as he stares down at Harry in shock and somewhat lust.
"H-Haz," he tries in a soft tone, making Harry growl in the back of his throat as be licked another wet stripe up the side of the cock presented in front of him. Louis couldn't help it but spread his legs even wider if possible.
"Yeah, babe, that's right. You gonna be good for me?" Harry growls quietly, licking his lips as he slowly reached forward to circle Louis' hole with one of his fingers, already slicked up with the thick gel.
Louis meows - he fucking meows.
Harry feels himself die inside as he drops his head in a quiet groan, begging Lord to help him because fuck - Louis is just so hot, and spread out for him and - it feels unreal, slightly.
"Mhh," Louis quietly drags out as Harry slowly presses in the finger, only the slight tip being enveloped by Louis' heat. Harry could feel how tight the boy was and felt himself swallow thickly at the aspect of sticking his dick inside.
"So tight, Lou, think you can take two?" Harry asks, but without waiting for a reply from the boy he instantly pulls out the single finger - earning a high pitched whine - and then pushes it back inside along with another.
Louis looks like he's about to faint.
"O-ooh. Yes, Haz," he hisses out through clenched teeth, breathing already unsteady and hands shaky where he gripped the duvet tightly in his fingers. He arches his back, pushes his arse onto Harry's hands. The burn feels too good.
"You like that?" This time, Harry waits until the boy nods before he's huffing out a laugh. "Of course you do, because you're my little cock slut, aren't you?"
"Y-yes, Haz," Louis whimpers, pushing his legs out wider as Harry shoves the two fingers as far as they can go without possibly hurting the boy more than he already was.
He took a moment to appreciate the fact that Louis was learning new words. As simple as they were, they were still British words and he was proud of the boy for learning as fast as he was.
"What do you want me to do, Lou?" Harry asks in a mutter, slowly and gently scissoring the two fingers that he has pushed into the boy.
Louis stares back at him in silence, eyes wide and glassy, wet mouth parting. Harry could see words being mouthed, however Louis made no sound. He was trying so hard and Harry prodded him with a third finger as a congratulation and to urge him on.
"F-f," Louis manages, and he's crying now because there's two fingers up his arse and he can't talk and he's not normal and Harry's cooing at him.
"What's that, babe?" The boy asks, making Louis cry harder. Harry can see that Louis is desperate by now, his knuckles beginning to turn white as he clutched the duvet, mouthing words.
"Fu- uhh," Louis settles on that, looking up at the younger boy with hope in his glassy eyes, and Harry smirks slightly.
"You want me to fuck you?" Harry asks in an innocent tone, his smile evident in his voice as he watches Louis, his fingers digging into the boy's prostate deep inside of him, making Louis write and thrust upwards, nodding desperately at Harry's words.
"You should have just said, babe. Of course I'll fuck you," Harry mumbles, mouthing over Louis' skin. "I'll fuck you so hard that you won't walk tomorrow, will have you crawling on all fours - hands and knees for the whole day. Like a real kitten, yeah?"
Louis gasps softly, throwing his head back into the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut at the quick burn of Harry removing his fingers from the stretched hole.
"Sorry, babe," Harry says as he pulls down his own trousers, quickly ridding of his boxers and giving himself a few strokes of his lube-slick fingers.
He sees Louis' cerulean eyes widen when the boy notices Harry's cock, long and thick, an angry red hard against his body and he smirks proudly. Louis blinks up at him.
"You reckon you're ready for my dick, Lou?" Harry mutters into the boy's ear as he positions himself over Louis, leaning down on his elbows on either side of the boy's head, his cock brushing over the boy's entrance, making the kitten push back against him, whining and desperately trying to just get Harry inside of him.
Louis stares up into Harry's eyes, and sees that the boy is waiting for something, his eyes fixed right back on Louis' so the kitten smiles shakily, before whispering a "Yes, Haz,".
Right as the words leave his lips, everything gets blurry as his eyes fill with tears and his words get muffled into another broken moan as Harry pushes through, his thick cock stretching Louis' hole out.
"Fuck, Louis," Harry gasps out as he pushes a little further, watching as the boy in front of him goes completely pliant under his touch, despite the fact his dick was only halfway inside Louis.
"O-oh," Louis whines out, speechless - more than usually, anyway - and he squeezes his eyes shut as Harry pushes in the last bit, bottoming out.
They lie in silence, Harry enjoying the feeling of Louis unclenching and clenching around him, the tight heat enveloping his cock. It felt good, better than he ever has felt while doing something like this He felt in control and comfortable and safe with being joined to Louis in the closest way possible. The younger boy reached forward, brushing a few loose strands of Louis' fringe back and kissing his forehead, his lips lingering on the soft skin. "You okay, Lou?"
Louis nods instantly, eyes wide as he stares up at Harry like he's the moon and the fucking stars with his shiny eyes and smudged eyeliner and his dodgy curls sticking out around his head and his goofy smile and - Louis leans upwards to capture Harry's lips in his own.
When they pull away, mouths wet and chests heaving, Harry slowly drags his cock out of Louis' hole almost whole, quickly following by a swift motion by instantly pushing himself back inside of the boy, thrusting deeply.
Louis' whole body is moving and it's on fire as the boy thrusts deep into him, cock dragging over the heat inside him. He can physically feel Harry's dick pressing into his prostrate with a sense of painful pleasure and it hurts - it hurts so good.
When Louis' legs lock behind Harry's back and pull the boy impossibly closer inside of him and his head bangs into the headboard and makes it slam against the wall, the mattress beneath them creaking in protest, Harry realises how lucky he is.
"You like that?" Harry grunts out, breathing shaky and heavy as he pulls out only to slam right back in. "You like having my cock up your arse? You like me stretching you out, Lou?"
Louis doesn't reply. His mouth is wide open and his eyes are squeezed shut, body curled upwards as Harry thrusts deep, fast, hard into him. He wants to cry out for Harry to go faster, to not be afraid to hurt him because he fucking loves the pain - and also, he loves Harry's dick, and he wants to tell him that as well.
"Y- Haz," Louis splutters out and mentally murders himself for only being limited to a certain amount of words, the pang in his heart quickly being replaced by an unfamiliar heat in his stomach. Louis cries out.
"It's okay, babe. You're going to come. Yeah, you're going to come all over yourself like the naughty kitten you are, hm Lou?" Harry mutters out in a quiet tone, his voice smooth like honey as the words roll off his tongue. Louis shudders beneath him because he doesn't know what's happening or why it feels as if his dick is burning. The only thing he knows is that he enjoys having Harry fuck him.
"Please, please, please," He cries out, managing to utter another word as he feels Harry shiver slightly as his thrusts become more sloppy and slow and dragged out. He throws his head back in surprise when Harry's long fingers curl around his dick, slowly tugging upwards as he flicks his wrist and that does it for Louis - the boy screams out a muffled moan as his head falls back into the pillows, hips thrusting upwards into the air and he's coming, white streaks painting his thighs and over his stomach and he even bloody manages to get come on Harry's hair.
Harry's grinning down at him like a maniac before he's grunting and moaning and thrusting three more times, stopping when he's deep inside and he comes, seeing white.
He pulls out when he's done, watching Louis' face twist in pain when he tugs himself out of his clenched hole.
Louis closes his eyes and just lies there. He can feel something warm - presumably what Harry has previously called come - slowly leaking out of his arse, dripping down his thighs. He scrunches his nose up and hears a throaty chuckle.
Louis lazily opens his left eye, glancing at Harry who's grinning at him again, flushed cheeks and messy hair.
"Leaky," Louis offers weakly, and Harry's heart flutters. He thinks that if he was a cartoon character he'd probably have animated hearts popping out of his eyes.
"Bless you, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I would've pulled out if you'd have said,"
And it's things like this that make Harry Harry . Because Louis knows that Harry knows that he can't just tell him anything he wants unless he fucking meows it out at him. Nevertheless he smiles down at the small boy as he gently brushes a warm, wet towel over his thighs, slowly yet steadily getting rid of the come on his skin.
When Louis is clean and Harry helps him tug his sweats back on - because Harry saw the look of pain upon the boys features as he attempted to sit up, face scrunching up - they both lie in bed in the dark, duvet sheets warm around them.
"You alright?" Harry asks into a mouthful of Louis' hair, his velvety cat ears on either side of Harry's mouth.
Never better, Louis thinks.
He meows at Harry and Harry beams, kissing his head before falling into a dreamless sleep.
Fin