Work Text:
Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging them away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.
"I know what you're going to say," Louis says, turning around and facing Harry right as he was going to pipe up, "and I'm going to tell you to shut up."
Before Harry can compose a response, Louis is reaching up while carding his hands through Harry's curls, forcing Harry's head down into a particularly hard kiss.
There's no finesse behind it, especially not when Louis' tongue hits Harry's lips before his own lips do, but Harry just smiles at Louis' desperation and gently sucks on his tongue. The two of them are pushed flushed together, trying to rid any air that dares step in between them as Louis desperately claws at the back of Harry's blazer. A chuckle escapes Harry's throat as he takes off his blazer to drape it over the hook mounted on the wall.
Louis reluctantly accepts that Harry's attention is elsewhere, placing his hands over his chest and looking small in comparison because Harry just had to start hitting the gym again and connecting his lips to the spot just above his collarbone where his neck and shoulder meet. Once the blazer is out of the way, Harry's hands settle on Louis' hips, feeling every swipe of Louis tongue on his skin.
"Babe, what's got you this desperate?" Harry asks, smile in his voice, as Louis’ teeth graze his skin, causing the fine hairs along his neck to stand on end.
Louis detaches himself from Harry's neck to level his gaze at him. "You fucking know what."
And Harry just can't stop smirking at him. Louis tries to be snappy and in control of the situation, that's just how he is. But he does know. He does know why Louis' fringe is starting to stick to his forehead with sweat and why his eyes are glazed, knows why his lips are bitten swollen and why he refused to talk to anyone since they left the house, knowing his voice would come out wrong.
So Harry just skims his hands down from where they were on Louis’ waist until they're resting on the curve of his arse over his dress pants, and sneaks one hand in between the cheeks as best he can over the slacks, and presses against his hole, hard.
Louis' reaction is immediate. The glare etched on his face falls away and his entire body crumples into Harry, landing his face right into Harry's shoulder. He's panting now, dampening the fabric of Harry's shirt with his spit, and he's quaking harder when the pressure doesn't let up.
"Get it out," Louis pants into the shirt, "get it out, get it out, get it out."
"Get what out?" Harry's voice is picture-perfect innocence, the exact one that let's him get away with anything when paired with his dimples. Fuck his dimples. "C'mon Lou, you gotta use your words, otherwise I don't know what you're trying to say."
The little fucker. Harry knows exactly what Louis is trying to say, what he means; he's just being a bloody bastard about it.
"The fucking plug you stuffed in me this morning after not letting me come. That one. Does it ring a bloody bell?" Louis probably means to throw the words at Harry like darts, but he's too turned on for them to not sound anything but breathy.
Now that was a beautiful sight. Harry woke up with Louis half on top of him, leg draped over Harry's torso and he couldn't not glide his hands down Louis' back and over his arse and feel the pounding he took yesterday, feeling just a bit smug about it. Louis was still loose enough for Harry to comfortably stuff two fingers in, despite the awkward angle. Louis woke with a start, gasping when he moved his hips and the pads of Harry's fingers brushed his prostate. Harry continued to lazily finger Louis, stretching and scissoring his fingers until Louis was squirming on top of him. Louis tried to sneak his hand towards his own cock so he could get off, but Harry quickly batted it away saying he had other plans. Said plans now presented him with a desperate and hard Louis in his arms. Harry has had worse plans.
"Hmm, I don't know," Harry says as he sits down on the toilet cover. "How 'bout you jog my memory?"
Louis’ tongue feels thick in his mouth. He had plans to get in here, have a quickie, and get back out there to talk to fucking record executives so they can negotiate their contract. A sense of urgency only seems to be present in Louis; Harry just seems content savouring Louis’ desperation. Two can play this game.
Knowing full and well that Harry likes to be watched, Louis lets his gaze roam over Harry. And Louis has to admit, Harry looks good. He’s got on a crisp navy button down with the top three buttons undone and black slacks with his legs spread apart. Louis is also able to see Harry’s straining erection against the material, and when his eyes flick back up, Harry is already staring at him, heat in his gaze. Without breaking eye contact, Harry brings his hand to his crotch and roughly palms himself, letting his head roll back and mouth hang open. He’s putting a damn show on and Louis knows Harry knows he looks good.
“That looks painful,” Louis purrs, eyeing Harry’s crotch. “Why don’t you pull that out and relieve some pressure?”
Harry knows Louis is trying to gain back the upper hand and direct the flow. Harry also knows it’s not going to work once he pulls his cock out. Really. He can hear the whimper Louis lets out when he gives it a few long pulls to take the edge off.
“Why don’t you come here and give me a kiss?” Harry says, and a second later, he has a lap full of Louis, hot and desperate. Louis’ hands carefully splay over Harry’s chest and his thighs and clothed bum are being acquainted with Harry's cock.
Harry gently brings his hands up to cradle Louis’ head and pulls him in for a kiss, sweet and closed mouthed. The kiss only starts getting dirtier when Harry notices the short aborted movements of Louis’ hips down onto his crotch. Fingers make their way through Louis’ sweaty fringe down to the base of his neck, then they grip the hair at the nape of Louis' neck and pulls down sharply, forcing Louis to look up at Harry with wide eyes and a barely audible ’ah!’
Louis is fishmouthing, tears prickling the corner of his eyes from having his hair yanked so hard. He’s forced to look up at Harry, his face too close to look anywhere but, and he feels so vulnerable and open in Harry’s lap like this, loose and pliant. The ache in Louis' scalp lessens as Harry sucks Louis' tongue into his mouth, and Louis so out of it that all he can do is halfheartedly move his own lips against Harry’s. Pulling back from the kiss, Harry sharply lifts up a thigh, colliding head-on with Louis’ arse as well as the plug nestled inside. Louis folds himself in half and smothers his face into Harry’s chest between his hands, hips now moving on their own accord and riding Harry’s thigh, shifting the plug inside Louis so it relentlessly brushes against his prostate.
“H-Harry - nngh,” Louis breaths out against Harry’s chest, too far gone to formulate simple sentences. “Fuck me already, goddammit.”
Having been on edge all day, Louis is so worked up now, and he just can’t seem to stop himself as he keeps shifting over Harry’s thigh and driving the toy deeper into himself. The coil of heat in his stomach is growing, and he feels so out of control when his hips start to lose rhythm, and he’s right at the brink of insanity when Harry’s grip in his hair tightens again and pulls down, his lips right next to Louis’ ear.
“Don’t come.”
And Louis is falling apart at the seams. His eyes screw shut with half-formed tears, and his body is quaking as he caves in like he’s trying to burrow into Harry’s chest, come spilling into the front of his slacks, hopefully not leaving a wet stain. He knows he’s being really fucking loud, mewl after mewl ripped from his throat without his consent, so he latches onto Harry’s neck and sucks as hard as he can to muffle them. His hips are still working the toy inside him with Harry's thigh, riding out his high and completely overcome with just how hard he came.
Shit, Louis came.
Once Louis gathers enough of his wits, he looks back up at Harry and sees the hard line of disapproval etched into his face.
"'M sorry," Louis offers meekly.
"You know," Harry starts, "I was gonna wait and take you apart piece by piece at home, but I guess I’m entitled to a blowjob since you got to have an orgasm."
But Louis doesn’t want that. He came here with the intention of getting fucked and he’s damn well going to get Harry’s cock in him. The toy is just bordering the line of too much, but Louis is ready to catapult himself over that line. He is shifting restlessly in Harry’s lap, thighs squirming so much Harry has to grip them just so he stops. So Louis curls against Harry’s chest, arms coming up to wrap themselves around Harry’s neck as he stuffs his face into his collarbone. "But I want you to fuck me.”
Curls whip Louis in the face when Harry looks up at Louis' eyes to see if he's really being sincere about getting fucked right after having an orgasm. Louis sputters for a bit, but Harry can read how Louis' eyes are wide and seem to be silently begging for it. Harry drops his gaze to the mess between Louis’ thighs, his come very faintly starting to dampen the fabric, and can’t believe Louis is serious. His cock hasn’t flagged a little, even with the unpleasant feeling of his dick tacky with come and an over sensitive hole with a toy inside.
“I can’t.” Harry wants to slap himself when he sees Louis’ eyes knit in confusion and begins backtracking. “I mean, I don’t have any of the stuff. I can’t fuck you if it’s going to hurt you, doing it dry.”
Louis just tightens his arms around Harry’s neck and tries to bury into his chest. “Back pocket.” Louis murmurs.
Since curiosity gets the best of him, Harry trails his hands up from Louis’ thighs to the curve of his’ bum, fingers dipping into the pockets. What he procures is a packet of lube in between his forefinger and middle.
"You love cock that much, don't you?" Louis squirms, and it's not because of Harry's words, it’s not.
Harry takes the packet and places it on the toilet paper holder. "You think this is enough?"
Louis shifts in Harry's hold. "I've got more..."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Louis says in between taking in lungfuls of air. He's stopped shifting restlessly, but now the toy is pressed against his prostate, and Louis is so ready to come his brains out again. "Blazer."
"Mmm," Harry acknowledges, "why don't we take it off then?"
Together, they get off Louis' blazer, which is a feat in itself because Louis is always clingy after his first orgasm, and sure enough, there's a small bottle of lube in the breast pocket. Surprisingly, though, there isn't a condom. Don't get him wrong, Harry loves fucking Louis bare and watching his come leak out of Louis' gorgeous arse, but it's not exactly ideal when having semi-public sex.
"No condom?" Harry asks. "How am I gonna fuck you bare and still keep you clean?"
Louis lifts his head from where it's been buried in Harry's shoulder and makes eye contact, then flusters because there’s no way he can voice his thoughts out loud, so he screws his eyes shut. “I was hoping you would clean me up afterward.”
Louis slowly opens his eyes again to gauge Harry’s reaction, but he’s only met with Harry’s face twisted in confusion.
“Y’know,” he continues, feeling the blush creep up his neck, “with your tongue?”
And just like that, realization dawns on Harry’s face and he crushes Louis into himself. “Jesus christ, Lou, you’re going to actually kill me one day.”
“If I say I won’t kill you, will it get your cock in me faster?” Louis snips, voice trembling and impatient.
“Stand up and turn around for me, sweetheart, then brace the wall.” Harry says instead of answering him, tapping his hips twice to signal Louis to get off his lap.
Louis complies easily, standing up and turning around on wobbly legs, arse now eye level with Harry’s head, and sways it back and forth, knowing how good his arse looks in these pants. He may have also chosen these pants as revenge for this morning, thinking they’d be at the event and unable to touch each other. That backfired.
Harry’s hands reach out to grab Louis’ hips and pulls him back, causing Louis to stumble.
“Keep your hands on the door and don’t let go.” Harry says, and Louis has to arch his back to accommodate the situation.
Harry's hands land on the waistband of Louis' slacks, dipping underneath so Harry can slowly expose his arse as he pulls them lower and lower so the flesh of his arse is out but his cock is still trapped underneath the zipper at the front.
When his arse is fully exposed, Harry groans and he has to give himself a few strokes before he completely ruins himself. “Fuck, Lou, this is too much.”
And it’s really not an exaggeration. Harry was expecting Louis’ generic brand of tight Topman briefs, which already does wonders for an arse like Louis’, but seeing him clad in this frilly lace thong is really going to push him over the edge. The lace cuts shapes into his hips and down the center of his arse, accenting the curve, and the pale colors offset his naturally tan skin.
Harry brings his lips to the curve of Louis’ right cheek and softly bites the flesh. “Did you do this for me?” He asks, words vibrating through Louis’ skin. Louis nods his head vigorously between his outstretched arms, and Harry chuckles. “Words, baby, you gotta use your words.”
“Yes, I did,” Louis exhales, words getting progressively louder. “I did it for you, Harry. I thought you’d like it, just as much as I like it and - mmpf” Louis abruptly stops talking as Harry eases two fingers into his mouth and eagerly starts sucking in the digits. It’s a stretch, even for Harry, to reach his arm around Louis to fill his mouth with his fingers and still remain seated on the toilet cover with his mouth on Louis' arse, but he’s willing to sacrifice his comfort for Louis.
“Use your words, but you can’t be loud. You gotta stay composed, so don't pant and whine and moan.” Harry says as his fingers work themselves deeper into Louis’ mouth. “What if someone comes in and hears you moaning my name? What are you going to do then? So do you understand?” Harry feels Louis nod around his fingers and slowly pulls his fingers out of his mouth. Louis pants, letting out airy breaths, but he’s quieter than before and inaudible unless Harry strains his ears to catch the sounds, so Harry deems it okay.
Harry clutches Louis’ hips and pulls him back just the tiniest bit farther so his arse is right up in Harry’s face. He can see how the lace pulls taut around Louis skin and over Louis’ hole where the base of the plug is visible, and pulls his cheeks apart to see the base of the toy better.
Harry removes one hand from Louis’ arse cheeks to prod at the toy over the lace, making it to brush over Louis’ prostate with teasing strokes. Putting up a valiant effort in suppressing his whines, Louis’ teeth sink into his bottom lip, sure to leave marks on his lip.
Harry takes mercy on Louis and stops his prodding and pushing and begins to slide the thong over his bum until it’s resting on the underside of his cheeks where the waistband of his slacks are.
Grabbing the small packet of lube, Harry dribbles it over where Louis’ rim and the toy meet to ease the slide out of Louis’ hole. The cool gel landing on Louis' overheated skin makes him hiss, but otherwise stays relatively silent, mind going at a hundred miles an hour as his body stays rigid. Harry rubs the lube around the edge and slowly warms up the gel, and the gentle massage around his rim is really driving Louis insane, his arms shaking as he presses into the door so he doesn't let go.
Once Harry deems the slick around the edge of the toy adequate, he grips the end of the plug and pulls it out slowly, eliciting a long drawn out moan from Louis that isn't quite smothered by him biting on his lower lip to keep quiet.
When the plug is fully out, Louis lets out a desperate whimper. After being full the entire day and having the incessant pressure on his prostate, he's sad to see it go, even if he’s going to get Harry's cock instead.
The plug Louis had in isn't the largest that they have, and it definitely doesn't have anything on Harry's size, but it still leaves Louis gaping, rim fluttering because there’s nothing in him anymore.
Harry sets the toy down on the toilet paper holder and then carefully blows over Louis’ hole, sending cool air there and revels in the sound Louis makes.
"Shhh, baby, you've gotta keep it down." Harry chides, petting over Louis' sides and Louis offers half a noise of agreement.
Harry leans back down again, lips resting on the curve of Louis' bum, and his hands skimming down Louis' thighs. He tightens his grip on them and forces his legs as far apart as they'll go, which is a pity since Louis is really flexible and restricted by the waistline of his slacks. The torn sound that Louis makes really shouldn't go straight to Harry's hard on, but if the way Louis is slightly trembling in his arms is anything to go by, Louis likes to be manhandled a little; he always has.
Harry's hands slowly travel up again to his bum so he can pull Louis' cheeks apart, rings digging indents into the flesh, and his tongue draws a broad wet stripe over Louis' relaxed hole before Louis can mentally prepare himself for it.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Harry, don't tease, please." Louis wheezes.
Harry pulls off abruptly and Louis wants to fucking scream because why would Harry do that. "Quiet, love, you have to be quiet."
At this point Louis responds halfheartedly, just doing whatever he can to get Harry to finish what he started. When Louis finally settles down, Harry resumes licking into him.
His hole is already a mess, wet with lube and slightly gaping, but Harry just seems to be adding to it, getting his spit slick everywhere, from his own chin to slightly dripping down Louis’ thighs.
Louis knows he's not gonna be quiet, he never is when Harry is eating his arse like he is, licking everywhere and softly nipping at the rim. In a last ditch attempt to smother his sounds, he turns his head and bites his forearm to keep noises in, sucking the skin into his mouth, and so far, it's working in keeping him quiet.
That is, until Harry’s tongue breaches past his hole, just the tip, and Louis’ knits his eyebrows and lets go of his arm in favor of choking out a 'H-Harryyy' before his lips attach themselves back to his previous spot on his forearm.
Harry tugs at the hem of Louis' shirt where it's tucked into the front of his slacks so it’s hanging loosely over his frame, mouth still working over and in Louis’ hole. He let’s go of each cheek in favor of running his hands underneath Louis’ now-untucked shirt, gliding over the smooth expanse of his back over the sinewy muscle.
Heat seeps from Louis' body as Harry's hand travel from Louis' back to his front, faintly tracing his fingers over his tummy when the skin is pulled taut over the soft definition of his abs. Louis is so self conscious of it, worried by the slight pudge, but Harry loves it. His hands skim upward and faintly brush over his nipples, and Louis shudders as goosebumps appear all over his body.
Harry pulls off briefly from Louis' rim, much to Louis’ dismay. “Why don’t you take your shirt off so it doesn’t get dirty, hmm? You can let go of the door to take it off, but put your hands back once you're finished.”
Louis obliges, removing the fabric as quickly as possible with his shaky fingers. Harry leans back and watches Louis with dark eyes as he slowly exposes himself, Harry's own hand palming over his aching hard on and giving it some attention after being so neglected.
Once his shirt is off, Louis resumes his previous position of his hands on the door and hips pushed far back so his back is flat and bum in Harry’s face. Harry smooths his hands over Louis' bum reverently and grabs the flesh of his arse before diving back in and insistently fucking his tongue into Louis’ stretched hole.
Louis slams the heel of his hand into the bulge tenting the front of his slacks, hard on aching and starting to become painful, and starts to palm himself to alleviate the insane pressure that is building up.
Harry feels the muscles of Louis back shift rather abruptly, and pulls off. “Babe, is everything alright?”
Louis lifts off his arm and looks at the bite marks he left. "Yeah, 'm good." His voice breaks at the end if the sentence because why did Harry stop, his hand still working over his clothed cock.
"I thought I told you not to let go of the door." Harry says as he sees Louis slowly push himself closer to the edge of coming.
Louis whines as he reluctantly puts his hand back on the door, arms shaking with exertion and being denied relief.
Once Harry is sure that he isn't going to remove his hands again, he pulls Louis' cheeks apart and dives back in. Harry's tongue is already pointed and glides into Louis easily, and begins to fuck in and out, leaving Louis to melt into a shivering mess, smothering the sounds into his arm.
Tears are prickling Louis' eyes because it’s a lot to take in, not being able to come since this morning then getting plugged up, orgasming, and getting eaten from an inch of his life, ready to come again. He's loud and there’s no way biting his arm is helping him stifle his whimpers and definitely no way Harry doesn’t know Louis is about to come again.
And maybe that’s why Harry pulls off his hole, giving a lingering kiss as a shitty consolation, and Louis is sobbing with how much he wants to come because he’s teetering on the edge and just needs something to push him over.
“Why the fuck did you stop,” Louis gasps into his arm.
“Because I like seeing you so desperate to the point where you can’t even follow a simple order like ‘be quiet.’” Harry replies without missing a beat. "'M gonna finger you now."
Louis' head snaps up. "I'm already stretched."
"And?"
The fucking twat. "I'm already stretched," Louis starts again, "and I even had the bloody plug in me all day so I remained stretched. Why would you waste time fingering me when you could be fucking me instead?"
"Because I can." Harry quips as he stands up and grabs the bottle of lube, drizzling the gel onto fingers while Louis looks back over his shoulder as best he can in this position. Louis lift his head from where he's been biting his arm, eyes locking with Harry's over his shoulder, and Louis refuses to be the first to look away.
Seeing the challenge in his eyes, the corner of Harry's mouth quirks up and oh so slowly pushes a single digit in. Louis is so open it’s barely anything and definitely doesn't fill him up as much as he wants, but there is no way he’s going to beg for more fingers.
Harry's finger isn't doing anything, just kind of there inside Louis, and Harry doesn't break eye contact when he sharply curls his finger against Louis' prostate. Louis can't help when his face contorts in pleasure, eyes screwing shut and mouth hanging just slightly agape, letting out that really small breath that Harry can't ignore.
"Fuck back onto my finger" Harry gently orders, voice soothing and contrasting the pad of his finger that is still pressing down on his prostate.
Louis rolls his hips back experimentally, testing out how to fuck himself in this position, and his knees nearly buckle. The insane curve that Harry's finger is crooked at let's Harry roughly drag his finger over his prostate every time without fail, and Louis doesn't know how much he can take before he's coming again.
Another finger is added along the first one, and though it fills Louis more, it's still not enough for him to feel that stretch and burn that he craves. It’s only satisfying when Louis feels a third finger prod alongside the others and begins to eagerly fuck back against the stretch, moans freely leaving his parted lips as the the movement of his hips grow exponentially.
Harry leans over Louis so their upper bodies are flush and shoves two fingers from his clean hand into Louis mouth again, forcing his fingers as far down Louis’ throat as they’ll go. Louis lets his jaw go of the grip on his arms and swallows around Harry's fingers. It probably shouldn't be so hot for Louis to have fingers stuffed in his mouth and in his arse, fucking back onto Harry’s hand.
“You just can’t be quiet, can you?” Harry berates gently and Louis can only nod because he doesn’t trust his voice at all.
Louis is close now, the heat in his stomach expanding, and lets out a stifled mewl. There’s no way Harry doesn’t know what that sound is, and he’s about to drive his fingers in to tip Louis over the edge again when the entrance to the restroom swings open.
Shit.
Startled, Harry quickly pulls both hands out of Louis and clamps the hand that was in Louis’ mouth over Louis’ mouth so he doesn’t actually give them away, stamping down the sound that they both know Louis’ was about to make. Louis is really fucking desperate now; he was filled in both his mouth and hole and now left empty so suddenly.
They’re currently occupying the last stall of the restrooms, so it’s not likely that they’ll get caught, but it’s still nerve-wracking. Neither of them anticipated someone coming into the restroom, both sure that the event is in full swing now and everyone important is mingling with champagne in their hands; everyone besides them, at least.
Tremors heave through Louis’ body, and he does his best to get his breathing under control. “Please.”
If Harry wasn’t so in-tune with Louis, the soft plea probably would have gone unnoticed, but he is, and Harry folds himself over him as he slowly slips two fingers back into Louis.
“Didn’t know you were such an exhibitiohist,” Harry murmurs, mouth right up against the shell of Louis’ ear and fingers moving in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace. Louis lets out a very slight 'ah' when Harry just presses his fingers down on the smaller boy’s prostate instead of brushing over it, creating this incessant and unyielding pressure inside Louis. He’s going to come. Untouched. In his pants. Again.
“‘M gonna come.” Louis whispers, words slipping out between the gaps of Harry’s fingers over his mouth and hips rolling back in time with Harry’s hand fucking into him oh so slowly. “Fuck, ‘m gonna come.”
“That’s bold.” Harry says, deliberately twisting his fingers inside Louis and making him twitch uncontrollably. “Didn’t know you had it in you, coming while other people are here.”
Louis strains his ears to listen to anything but the low voice next to his ear, and Harry is right; there are still people in the restroom. There's mild conversation happening, the tap water is running and toilets flushing, and Louis wants to throw himself into a brick wall because there are people still here and now he’s harder than before, still in the confines of his slacks. ”Shit.”
Louis’ voice is so airy and breathy and there’s only one reason his voice gets like that, and Harry’s heard it so many times he could point it out in his sleep. “You like this, don’t you.” Harry fills Louis’ mouth with his other hand before he can think of a response, and Louis just mewls around his fingers eagerly.
“Please, Harry, god, I need - fuck” Louis pleads, carefully enunciating each word around Harry’s fingers so they’re somewhat decipherable. Not that it really matters when Louis can’t form a coherent thought.
“What if people saw you right now?” Harry continues, words ghosting over Louis’ ears, and Louis is slowly losing coherent thought. “The loud and brash Louis Tomlinson being reduced to a whimpering mess and begging to be fucked in public. What would they say?”
Louis emits a pathetic whine around Harry’s fingers, subtly pushing his fingers back against Harry’s hands. Harry is having a hard time not soiling his own pants when Louis is so out of it that he can’t even make words anymore.
“‘M gonna fuck you.” Harry drawls, removing his hand from Louis’ mouth but leaving the hand in Louis’ arse. Louis slumps forward against the door, face heating up because he’s finally going to get Harry’s cock. “You want that?”
“‘Ve been wanting it since this morning, you dickhead.” Louis probably means to sound snarky, but his voice is hoarse and slightly high-pitched and Harry knows Louis is so much more affected than he’s trying to let on.
“Mmm.” Harry pulls his fingers out of his bum, slower this time and giving a lingering kiss on the top of Louis’ hair, and Louis wants to fucking cry with how much he wants to be filled. He’s pushing against the door with as much strength as he can, arms shaking so he does as he’s told and doesn’t touch himself like Harry wants.
Louis hears the clothing rustle and the snick of the bottle of lube opening, hears Harry squirt some lube in his hand, hears him slicking up his cock. Louis closes his eyes and waits for the telltale hand on his hip and pressure all around his hole to tell him he’s finally getting what he wants.
But it doesn’t come.
“You can let go of the wall now, and take everything off.” Harry orders gently.
Louis straightens up on shaky legs, back aching from being arched so far, and pushes his dress pants and the panties as far as they go and kick them off the rest of the way so they land in a heap on the floor along with his shirt. Thank god they're not doing this in a dingy club with probable piss stains on the ground; Louis would never let Harry hear the end of it.
Once every article of clothing is removed from Louis' body, Harry wraps his arm around Louis' waist and pulls him onto his lap and latches his mouth to the back of Louis' neck, gently sucking at the sweat-salty skin and fingers squeezing Louis' sides.
If Louis wasn't flustered before, he definitely is now. He feels so slutty like this, naked and spread over Harry's lap while Harry is still fully clothed, his cock nestled between his arse cheeks and rubbing right against his hole.
Trying to gain the upper hand, Louis grinds back against Harry's cock, knowing exactly how to move to get Harry writhing, but Harry just squeezes his hips on the right side of too hard, blunt fingernails scratching along the skin, and Louis finds himself stopping. Wondering what Harry is going to do with him, Louis is shaking in anticipation now, his hands are scrabbling along the the walls of the bathroom stall, unable to find purchase. Louis is going insane with how much he needs to be filled right fucking now, but it seems that Harry wants to keep sucking a bruise into Louis’ neck.
When Harry deems the love bite acceptable, he pulls off and brings his mouth right to Louis' ear. "Why don't you get on, babe? Fill yourself up nice and full with my cock?"
Louis will never admit he shuddered at the words, because he absolutely did not. Reaching behind himself, Louis grabs hold of the base and lines himself up. He sinks down, slowly filling himself with Harry’s cock, and he has to dig his fingernails into his palm to keep calm.
It isn’t that it hurts, Louis has gotten fucked by Harry too many times to count, but it's big and unyielding, a constant pressure inside him that makes him feel so fucking full, and Louis is going to come sooner than expected if he doesn’t get his hormones under control.
Once he's fully seated, Louis has to take a moment for himself to adjust to Harry inside him, breathing through his nose so he doesn't come from how full he feels. He can feel the cool metal of the zipper against the heated flesh of his arse, and he’s suddenly reminded that he’s full-on naked and Harry is still fully dressed. It really shouldn’t be that big of a turn on.
When the threat of coming isn't as imminent, Louis plants his feet firmly on the floor and his hands on Harry's thighs and carefully lifts himself up so just the head of Harry’s prick is in him, and slams back down.
Louis can’t help the groan that leaves his lips, can’t help that he’s always so fucking loud. Harry brings his hand up to Louis chest and presses him back, effectively knocking the air of Louis’ lungs and pulling his back flush against Harry’s chest. It's not possible for Louis to ride properly with Harry pinning him to his chest, so Louis offers small circles of his hips as consolation.
The persistent pressure against Louis prostate really isn’t helping his noise situation, and he really needs to learn to shut the fuck up. As it is, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen in the near future, and Louis is going to come. Again.
"Shhh, baby, you gotta be quiet. We don't want everyone to know how much of a whore you're being for me, how much you're begging for cock." Harry’s other hand that’s not on Louis' chest sneaks up to his mouth and fits two fingers in, and Louis sucks them in, reducing his moans to smothered whines. "There you go, you can be quiet.”
Louis moans, thankfully smothered by Harry’s fingers and squirms in Harry’s lap, still pinned to Harry’s chest with his hand. It’s really damn frustrating that he can’t properly get off with Harry's cock now that it's finally in him. So Louis just draws in Harry’s fingers further while circling his hips, writhing because he has to move, otherwise he's going to go mad.
Harry skims the hand that’s not occupying Louis’ mouth over his arm and sharply twists it behind his back, not enough to actually cause Louis pain, but just hard enough that Louis is surprised.
Louis lifts himself up again and slams back down, eagerly riding Harry now, thighs working to get himself up to sink back down.
Louis sinks down at a different angle and his legs practically give out, unable to move because Harry’s cock nailed Louis’ prostate dead on. Louis just draws Harry's fingers further into his mouth so he doesn’t let too much noise escape, and tears are running down his face because it's just so much. He has to brace the wall to somewhat steadily ride Harry, and Harry leans back as best he can with one hand in Louis’ mouth and other pinning one of Louis’ arms behind his back, and just admires the view.
Louis is riding Harry with quick bounces now, whining around Harry’s fingers and creating an audible smack with each drop, and Harry has to suck in his own bottom lip into his mouth to keep quiet. The ripple in Louis’ arse every time he sinks down is proving to be too much for Harry.
Harry quickly pulls Louis back into himself and latches onto his shoulder blade, slowly working a rather impressive love bite onto his skin. His teeth graze over the skin, skimming over the top and just barely there, and Louis just lets out a string of whimpers, falling from his lips one after the other, the fingers in his mouth barely doing anything to suppress them.
Louis is just dead weight now, not able to ride Harry properly anymore and completely unable to get his brain to order his limbs to move, and Harry keeps his thrusts sharp and deep, hitting Louis' prostate on every other thrust while calmly kissing the salt slick skin of the back of Louis’ neck.
But he's slipping, is the thing, and it's harder for Harry to fuck into Louis without a proper grip on his hips, so Harry regretfully removes his hand from behind Louis’ back in favor of digging his fingers into his waist. Harry's other hand slips further into Louis’ mouth, forcing his fingers further down smaller boy’s throat, so far that the ache in Louis’ jaw becomes more prominent, making Louis gag.
With the pressure off his arm now gone and paired with Harry's fingers inching deeper into the wet warmth of Louis’ mouth, there's no way for Louis to contain the moan that's ripped from his throat. He feels out of body like this, being fucked so hard he has to brace the bathroom walls, and Harry has to gag him on his fingers because he's so fucking loud. And Harry's hips don't stop. The squelch of lube and Harry's thrust has to be audible to anyone that walks in. Audible to anyone that's in here already.
Shit, they’re in public.
How did Louis forget? Louis strains his ears to hear the shuffles and chatter that is usually accompanied by people in the restroom, but there isn't any. Louis almost let's out a sigh, relieved that others haven’t come looking for them. But just because he can’t hear them doesn’t mean they aren’t. Louis whines at the thought of getting caught, of being humiliated, and Harry has to remove his hand from Louis' hip to clamp over his mouth.
Harry pulls Louis down so he's fully seated on his cock, hand in Louis’ hair gripping so tightly that his scalp is starting to hurt. “You’re being bad,” Harry whispers right into his ear. "I said be quiet."
But they both know Louis can't. He's loudloudloud and completely unable to control his sounds, so Harry stops thrusting and removes his hand from Louis' mouth, only a soft whimper is emitted. Hand now free, Harry reaches to where Louis' soiled panties are haphazardly discarded with the rest of his clothes, grabs them, and stuffs them into Louis’ mouth.
"This should help." Louis hates that he can hear the mischievous smile in Harry's voice and hates it even more that he gets so turned on from it. Louis whines around the tacky fabric where his own come has soaked through, and it's just making his prick get harder.
Louis can’t really move anymore, limbs laced with exhaustion, especially his thighs, so he just gives really pathetic circles of his hips, one of his hands reaching down from the wall to pull himself off with quick strokes.
The action doesn't go unnoticed. “Hands off and behind your back, babe,” Harry says and Louis can’t even find it in himself to whimper anymore, so out of it that all he can do now is follow Harry’s orders.
Harry grips both of Louis’ wrist with one hand, hard enough that there are bound to be bruises, as the other hand buries itself in Louis' hair and yanks back with enough force to lift Louis up just a tiny bit.
His grasp isn't particularly gentle, Louis' scalp aching and his arms straining to stay where Harry’s hand is keeping them behind his back, and tears are running Louis' face as he sucks in the panties more, so much that he's pretty much cutting off his own air supply.
Harry fucks into Louis brutally, cock sliding in and out easily with the squelch of the lube, nailing Louis prostate every fucking time like it doesn't know any other part of his body. Louis back is arched so far because of the grip in his hair, sweat following the curve of his spine, and he's going to come again really fucking soon. Like in three seconds soon. The heat in Louis’ stomach just keeps growing and all he can do is suck the panties further, fabric completely soaked with his saliva. Harry’s hips so insistent and demanding that he delivers a thrust perfectly aimed at Louis’ prostate, hands tightening the grip in his hair and on his hands, and that’s it.
Louis' orgasm crashes into him like a tidal wave, washing over him and pulling him under. He’s free-falling, shaking as he just comes and comes, and even though this is his second orgasm, it’s so fucking much because Harry kept building up the coil in Louis’ stomach and Louis is finally letting go, coming untouched and landing all over the floor. Harry isn’t far behind, thrusting up into Louis just one, two, three, more times before following Louis over the edge, only offering small thrusts to ride out both their orgasms.
They both slump down onto the toilet, Harry pulling Louis into his chest while removing his hands from Louis' forearms and hair in favor of hugging him from behind. Louis gives a small noise of protest because he's fucking exhausted and too tired to coordinate his limbs into being helpful, but Harry just manhandles him how he wants Louis to be and they cuddle like that, with Louis in Harry’s lap and Harry’s softening cock in him.
Louis' head feels floaty and his jaw is slack around the panties, and Harry is just as content as Louis is to just sit here for a while longer, at least he thought he was until he feels his come slowly dripping out and remembers Louis' words from earlier.
I was hoping you would clean me up afterwards.
Harry carefully lifts Louis up and off his cock as Louis makes a sound of protest around the lace still shoved in his mouth, not wanting to get up, but Louis never weighed a lot to begin with, at least not enough to throw Harry off balance. The instant Louis is up on his own two feet is the same instant his knees buckle and he slumps against the door of the stall, and Harry catches him before he completely falls to the ground and supports his weight against the wall, kneeling behind Louis.
“Love, can you hold yourself up?” Harry asks, voice cautious and hands running up and down the back of Louis' thighs. Harry is eye level with his hole and his mouth salivates at the sight, his hole gleaming with lube and slowly dribbling out come.
Louis' only answer is half a mewl that's only slightly suppressed by the fabric in his mouth, but he sticks his bum further back. Harry leans forward to collect a small dribble of come leaking out on his tongue, and Louis doubles over against the wall when he feels Harry at his hole, warm and wet and insistent, faint tremors going through his body growing. With his arms firm around Louis’ thighs, Harry laps at the hole insistently, tasting himself. Its not the easiest thing in the world to hold Louis down when he's squirming in his hold, unsure whether to shy away or push back because it's so fucking much, but Harry is able to keep him still enough to lick into Louis’ hole.
The lace is starting to get really fucking gross, fabric tasting soggy and stale, but Louis just sucks it further into his mouth so he doesn’t let out a sound. It’s not particularly effective; Harry can hear each whimper with crystal clarity.
Harry release his grasp on his thigh in favor of wrapping his hand around Louis' cock, and Louis doesn’t know when he got hard again, doesn’t know anything anymore but the rush of blood to his aching hard on and this insatiable desire to get off. Again.
“Look at you,” Harry murmurs in between laps at Louis' hole, “ready to come again.” Harry starts to roughly drag his hand up and down Louis’ shaft, twisting his hand on the upstroke around the head. Louis' knees buckle, and the only reason he’s still standing is because Harry is pushing him up against the wall to support the majority of his weight.
Louis is torn and doesn’t know whether or not to shy away from Harry’s hands and mouth because it fucking hurts, but on the flip side, it’s Harry’s hands and mouth and really needs to come again. In the end, Louis just slumps against the wall, jaw going slack and panting around the lace, yielding himself to what Harry will give him.
“There’s my good boy.” Harry hums into Louis’ hole, voice thrumming through Louis and pushing him closer to the edge. The fight leave Louis’ body, and Harry can feel the way everything goes slack, especially the hole, and he can earnestly tongue it with how loose it is. Harry’s come is thoroughly cleaned out, nothing left to prove Louis got fucked except for the looseness in his rim and the general fucked-out state of his face. But he keeps licking into him, insistent pressure inside Louis that punches out the little whimpers that always go straight to Harry’s cock. He would be hard again if he hadn’t come so hard earlier inside Louis.
Louis' noises get steadily more frequent, the giveaway sign that he is going to come again, so Harry quickens the pace of his hand on Louis’ cock and widens his jaw, digging his tongue further in, and Louis is vibrating out of his skin as he whites out with the strength of his orgasm.
Tears spring back into Louis’ eyes, crying as Harry’s hand moves along his shaft and easing out small dribbles of come. Louis’ throat feels sore and hoarse, but it really doesn’t stop him from crying out, sounds no longer stifled by the panties in his slack mouth. Harry is eating Louis out softer and softer now, until he’s able to pull away and look at Louis' hole, loose and wet.
Louis is shaking so badly, unable to keep himself stable anymore, so Harry eases Louis down to the ground and holds him in his lap, arms secure around Louis' middle as Louis just huddles closer to Harry, like he's afraid Harry will leave him. "Shhh, it's okay, I'm here baby."
"Thank you." Louis says as he feels Harry pet over his hair, softly carding his fingers through his sweaty fringe, and he preens under the attention. He just cuddles himself further into Harry’s chest, like he’s afraid Harry is going to leave him. But he doesn’t. Harry is there and attentive and Louis feels so loved and cared for in Harry’s arms. Louis is literally on the bathroom floor after he came his brains out and he feels so floaty.
“Love you.” Louis’ voice is muted, as if he didn’t intend for the words to slip out.
“Love you, too.” Harry whispers back, hands roaming over Louis. It’s not possessive like it was earlier when the two of them were going at it, but a softer feeling, reminding Louis that Harry is here for him and anchoring him down so he doesn’t float away. Harry kisses every place accessible to him from where he is behind Louis, majority being his hair or the skin at the back of his neck, patiently waiting for Louis to come back to him.
After what feels like a lifetime, Louis lifts his head off Harry’s chest and looks up with wide eyes, so blue and clear that Harry gets lost in them for a little while. He just look so small and innocent like this, without his usual quick wit and sass; this is Louis alone in private, after all his walls are broken down and allowing just a small peek at the real him.
Harry cups Louis’ face lightly and pulls his face in so their lips gently brush, tender and close-lipped. Usually the kissed they share become dirty in no time at all, but this time, they kiss until they are out of breath without any tongue, so the kisses remain light and sweet.
Once Louis pulls away so he can breath, he tries to burrow further into Harry’s chest, but realizing that he’s as far as he can go and a lets out a dissatisfied whine.
Harry just laughs at Louis’ ministrations, the sound rumbling deep in Harry’s chest and oddly slows Louis to a stop.
“Hey.” Harry’s voice is definitely no louder than a whisper. “‘M right here, Lou, and I’m not going anywhere.” Louis exhales audibly, and Harry just chuckles. “We should clean up and leave soon, though.”
“Don’t wanna.” Louis objects immediately, and whines when he feels himself lifted out of Harry’s lap. Harry stands up with Louis still in his arms, Louis retorting with a “show off,” muffled into Harry’s neck.
Harry plants a soft kiss to Louis’ hair. “‘M not showing off, you’re so small and don’t weigh much.” Harry murmurs, setting Louis down on the toilet cover.
Louis means to be indignant, means to come back with a quick retort, but he literally had the fight fucked out of him and settles for pouting like a child, arms folded and giving a humph under his breath.
Harry kneels down and begins to dress him carefully, cautiously avoiding jostling Louis too much. Once Louis is dressed, Harry steps back to see if anything is askew. Louis' shirt and slacks are slightly wrinkled from being haphazardly thrown on the ground, and Louis is also sporting a healthy flush, but other than that, Louis looks fine.
In effort to be more presentable, Harry rises from his knees and brushes the wrinkles out of his pants. It's an effort wasted in vain, really; Louis riding him and Harry fucking into him with his clothes on probably wasn't the smartest thing, but ,fuck, it was good.
Harry untucks his shirt from his pants and combs a hand through his own mussed hair, throws on his blazer, and helps Louis stand up.
"Y'alright?" Harry asks.
"'M fine." Louis' voice sounds so small and there's no way he's gonna be able to talk to the record execs.
Louis feels Harry shift so one arm is around his waist and the other is digging around in his pants pocket for his phone. Louis just sighs and goes limp, leaning into Harry's space and feels Harry hold him tighter.
Louis is faintly aware of Harry talking on the phone, possibly asking for a car, but his head still feels floaty and legs feel wobbly from his orgasms. Louis is contemplating having Harry carry him when he feels Harry softly nudge his side.
“Ready to go?” Harry asks, voice low and murmuring, and it’s likely that Louis would have been ready for round four if he wasn’t so exhausted.
“Yeah.”
Louis tries to take a step forward to get out of the stall, but he misplaces his foot and stumbles right into Harry’s chest. Harry luckily is coordinated when it comes to taking care of Louis, instead of being a baby doe in headlights, and grasps Louis’ side with one hand and braces the wall behind him with the other so they don’t go tumbling down.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go?” Harry asks again, concern coloring his words.
Louis really isn’t, he knows he isn’t, but the promise of a bed and home and cuddles and Harry wins out. But he doesn’t feel like he can support his own weight. “Carry me.”
“Of course.” Harry says, no hesitance whatsoever, and scoops Louis into his arms with one hand under Louis’ knees and the other around his back. Once Louis is secure in his arms, slowly being lulled to sleep by the sound of Harry breathing, Harry speaks up again, keeping his voice muted and gentle. “‘Ve got a car around back, let’s head home, yeah?”
Louis gives a small 'yeah’ in response, and hears Harry unlock the door, and then they’re moving.
The sway of Harry’s walking feels like he’s rocking in a hammock, carefully pulling him into slumber, and suddenly Louis’ head feels heavy, so resting his head down on Harry’s collarbone feels like the best option.
Eventually, they make it out into the brisk night air, their breaths making little clouds before they fade away. Harry spots the car on the other side of the road and quickly crosses after looking both ways. The driver steps out of the driver’s seat and holds the door open for Harry so they can slip inside without Harry having to put Louis down.
Harry thanks him when he and Louis are both situated in the car, and the driver looks over his shoulder to ask where they want to go.
“Home please,”Harry says and quickly gives him the address before turning his attention back to Louis.
Louis is curled into himself, trying to be smaller and smaller, and Harry can’t help the quirk at the corner of his mouth. Harry shrugs out of his blazer and drapes it over Louis' shoulders, completely dwarfing Louis in the material. Not being able to resist, he gently tugs Louis onto his lap, Louis complying easily and already on the edge of unconsciousness. Harry smiles. Louis is quite adorable for someone with a lot of bite to his words.
Harry feels the pull of sleep tugging behind his eyelids, so he wraps his arms around Louis as the car rides through the bustling streets. He's just about to tip into unconsciousness when he hears his phone ring, polluting the air with a persistent melody. Harry pats around the pockets of his blazer draped over Louis, Louis making a disgruntled sound at being disturbed when he was having such a nice sleep. Once he has his phone, Louis snuggles back into his previous position and Harry scans his notifications, noting that there are five texts from Niall and three from Liam. Niall’s texts get opened first since he probably isn't as mad at him and Louis for leaving early.
Niall: Hey do u kno wehre Louis is i cant find him
Niall: Where’d u go i havent seen u since all of us got out hte car
Niall: Oh
Niall: Shit
Niall: Lima told me smething, use protection u nasty wankers!
Harry lets out a quiet laugh at Niall’s texts; he more than likely would have never realized what he and Louis were up to if it weren’t for Liam.
Louis shifts a little in reaction to Harry laughing, and Harry just tightens his hold and presses his lips to Louis’ hair before opening Liam’s texts
Liam: Really?
Liam: When you're done fucking, can you come back to the event there are execs asking for you two to renegotiate contracts
Liam: haul your asses back here me and Niall are getting skinned alive
Harry bites his tongue to suppress a laugh, but he seems to be doing a piss poor job since Louis lifts his head and glares at him for disturbing his sleep.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Liam's texts"
Louis makes an annoyed sound; he really wants to see the texts and he's about to ask when Harry's phone starts ringing, Liam's picture coming up on the screen.
“Fuck, he’s going to kill us.” Harry says, eyes widening.
Louis just makes half a sound in response, already losing himself to unconsciousness. Harry sighs, and proceeds to answer the phone. "'Lo?"
"Where the bloody fuck are you guys?" Liam sounds like he's foaming at the mouth, and Harry winces at the tone. Liam generally is easy going and his temper never really flares, even when he's the brunt of Louis' pranks, so to hear him like this is terrifying.
"I'm sorry?" Harry's answer is meek at best, and he hears Liam sigh on the other side of the line, like the fight has been physically drained out of him.
“I hope you appreciate the fact that I had to hound the execs off you twat’s backs for being unprofessional.” Liam says, and Harry gulps a lung full of air. Liam’s tone is indecipherable, and Harry is sure he’s gonna have to go to hell and back to get back in Liam’s good graces.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks man, I owe you one.”
Liam just sighs. “Yeah you do, now go take care of your boy.” And with that pleasant note, Liam ends the call without Harry saying goodbye.
Harry tosses the phone aside when the call disconnects and wraps both arms around Louis to keep him close, tilting his head on Louis’ hair. With the proximity he’s at, Harry can hear Louis’ quiet breaths, can feel them putting him in a sort of trance, because in what feels like no time at all, the car is rounding itself to the back of the flat.
“Is this the location, Mr. Styles?” The driver asks.
“Yes, thank you, and have a good night; sorry for troubling you with this.” Harry responds, and receives a kind smile in return.
“Not a problem at all. Goodnight.” And with that, Harry gives an acknowledging nod and opens the car door.
It’s a little difficult for Harry to navigate both him and Louis out of the car at the same time, but for once Harry’s gangly limbs decide to cooperate and they both get out without face planting onto the pavement. They get into the flat as swiftly as possible, Harry taking two steps at a time because the lift takes forever and he just wants to be in their bed with Louis.
Once Harry steps inside the flat, he uses his foot to swing the door close and overestimates how much power to use and the door shuts itself with a particularly loud slam.
Well, so much for cooperating limbs.
Louis jolts in his arms, then slowly starts to blink awake. "What time is it?" Louis asks, words clouded around a yawn.
Harry smiles. "Way past your bedtime."
Louis makes a face at that. "There's no need to treat me like a child, Harold. It isn't nice. And need I remind you that I am older than you and should be taking care of you?"
Harry just laughs, loud and unabashed. "Then why am I carrying you to bed?"
Louis sees a twinkle in his eyes. An actual fucking real life Disney twinkle. And dimples. Fuck Harry and his prince charming persona. Louis just grumbles into Harry's neck when he can't think of a proper retort without indirectly saying he lost this argument.
Harry releases a quiet "thought so" before walking again, not stopping until they're in their bedroom.The two of them strip and their movements are slow and languid, almost as if they're putting on a show for each other, but they're both bone tired and ready to sleep for ten years. Maybe more.
Completely foregoing a shower, they're a sweaty pair of bodies, and it should be really fucking gross to get into bed, but there’s an unspoken agreement that, yeah, they’re too tired. Harry turns off the light and the two of them climb under the covers, their bodies gravitating towards each other until they're a tangled mess of limbs.
"Love you." Louis whispers into the darkness, sleep already coloring his voice.
Love swells in Harry’s chest as he pulls Louis in closer. He smells like sex is the first thing that Harry thinks, but it’s more than that. Yeah they had sex, and some pretty amazing sex at that, but Louis also smells faintly like the cologne Harry bought for him which he scoffed at, and he has to kiss the first available space of Louis' skin on the back of his neck.
"Love you, too."