When Louis wakes up, Harry is gone and he thinks that's a good thing because his mouth tastes like a battery and he feels as if he's been run over by a truck. He's not sure how much he actually slept, just knows it wasn't nearly enough, especially when he has to go out there where he hears multiple voices, telling him everyone is still there. He frowns in bed for a while, wondering if he just stays here if they'll leave him alone, but he finally hauls himself out of bed, deciding to face them. All of them. First, he sneaks out of his room and into the bathroom to brush his teeth and try to pat down his hair. He looks like death, dark circles prominent under his eyes and skin looking pale. It's nothing he can fix without tea and food, though, so he decides to go ahead and emerge, even if he does look like something from a horror film. He walks straight to the kitchen, waving toward the people scattered around his living room without actually looking at them. He's glad when he sees that the only person in the kitchen is Harry, who frowns as he enters.
      “Hey, love,” he says, head tilted to the side. “You feeling ill?” Louis pouts and walks straight to him, leaning against his chest. He does feel a bit ill, but he's not sure why he should. He hasn't quite figured that part out yet.
      “Just tired. Couldn't sleep.” Harry hugs him with one arm, the other holding his tea up, and he whispers a sympathetic
      “Poor baby” as he rubs Louis' back. It feels nice and it helps, but Louis still feels a bit sick. He reaches out for Harry's tea without pulling away and he sips at it while Harry's hand moves up from his back to massage his neck.
      “I love you,” Louis says, feeling the need to say it in this moment. Harry is lovely and wonderful and he should know that he is loved.
      “Love you, too, gorgeous,” he whispers back, kissing Louis' forehead. When he's drunk most of Harry's tea, he finally feels up to heading into the other room, not knowing what to expect. He grabs a bowl of dry Cheerios first, then rounds the corner, steeling himself for anything he might see. Everything seems normal, though, and Louis quickly scans the room for Niall and Josh, finding Niall on the couch and Josh in the armchair. Louis doesn't know what that means, but he finds an empty spot at the opposite end of the couch, letting Harry drop to the floor between his legs. They're watching an infomercial of all things and Louis still feels a bit on edge, but he watches silently, grabbing a handful of Cheerios and popping them into his mouth.
      “Sounded like you two had a good night last night,” Liam says playfully in lieu of a greeting from his place on the floor near Josh's feet. Louis freezes, mouth full of cereal, and turns to see Liam smirking at he and Harry. He'd forgotten all about Harry's refusal to be quiet the night before.
      “Not the only ones,” Zayn mutters next to him, sharing a smirk with Louis, like they're in on this great joke together. Louis feels his cheeks heat up and he looks down, hoping Niall doesn't understand what they're referring to. This would all be easier to deal with if Louis could just pretend it never happened. He has to admit, he hopes Niall forgets it happened, too, and figuring out the reasons behind that is not something Louis is willing to do this morning. When the lads leave a while later, Louis spends a fair amount of time kissing Harry goodbye, but as their lips move together, he hears Josh speak quietly next to them.
      “So, you've got my number,” he says. “Use it anytime, alright?” Louis knows how tacky it is but he opens one eye mid-kiss and sees Josh hugging Niall goodbye before he squeezes his eye shut again. It doesn't matter. If Niall has suddenly decided to start liking blokes, it's fine. Really, it is.
      “You're very kiss-y today,” Harry murmurs, pulling back to look down into Louis' eyes. “Not that I'm complaining.”
      “Your lips are extra kissable today,” Louis replies with a shrug, reaching up to peck him again.
      “Well, his kissable lips are our ride home, so if you'll kindly let the boy go,” Zayn interrupts, pulling on Harry's arm. Louis pouts, but lets Harry be pulled away, watching him go. He gives a wave to the rest of the boys, surprised when Josh's eyes lock onto his for a long moment, giving him a thoughtful smile like he's trying to figure something out. Louis looks away because he's trying to figure something out, too, but he has to admit he doesn't actually want to know. When they're gone, Niall starts clearing up beer bottles from the night before and Louis joins him if only because it gives him something to do and an excuse not to look at him.
      “We need to stop inviting teenagers into our home,” Niall says with a weary sigh. Louis snorts because the two of them are all of twenty-three and he's not sure they qualify as mature adults quite yet.
      “I'm pretty sure Liam and Zayn are twenty, bud,” he replies, biting his lip and forcing himself to continue on. “Not sure about Josh, though.”
      “He's twenty as well,” Niall answers, picking up an empty bag of crisps and crunching it up in his hands. “Guess your boy is the only actual teenager.” Louis would like to point out that Harry is probably the most responsible of the lot of them, proving his theory right, but Niall is heading into the kitchen and Louis doesn't have it in him to argue. He falls onto the couch, leaving the rest of the cleaning for later, and wonders at what point Niall learned Josh's age and what else he might have learned.

***

A couple of weeks later, Niall is working late so Louis had invited Harry over for a date night. Dinner, a film, and sex that doesn't have to involve hands clamped over mouths, muffling moans so they don't filter into the bedroom across the hall. They'd gotten through dinner and half an hour of the film before Harry was on his knees between Louis' legs, pulling his jeans down.
      “Fuck,” Louis moans, reclining back against the couch as Harry licks over him between gentle tugs to get him hard.
      “Want to?” Harry mumbles as he slurps his lips over the head of Louis' cock. “Since we've got the place to ourselves all night?” They often settle for blowjobs, both because of the noise factor and because they don't always have time to do it all. It's not much of a loss, though, not when your boyfriend has the mouth of a fucking god.
      “Yeah,” he sighs out in response, resting his head back against the couch and letting his eyes fall shut. “Yeah, in a bit.” Harry kisses the skin right at the base of Louis' cock as his fingers pull up along the length and Louis just melts into the feeling. His breath hitches as Harry lowers down, surrounding Louis' dick with cozy warmth. He stays like that, totally relaxed as Harry sucks him until he's good and hard and only then does Louis open his eyes and look down to see one of the prettiest boys he's ever seen with his lips stretched wide around the thickness of his cock. He smiles a little, reaching down to comb through his hair, green eyes looking up at him when he does.
      “Your turn, love?” He asks, eyebrows raised. Harry sweeps his tongue along the bottom of Louis' dick as he pulls off slowly, leaving his lips shiny and red.
      “Yes, please,” he says, a slight rasp to his voice that should be illegal.
      “Bedroom?” He asks, pushing himself up off the couch. Harry's got his jeans halfway down already, though, and he pulls them off entirely before sliding his boxers down as well. “Here,” he says, nodding toward the couch before he removes his shirt as well, leaving him naked in the middle of the living room.
      “You know how Niall feels about that, babe,” he says, torn between pushing Harry's face into the couch cushions and insisting they go back to his room.
      “He's not here,” Harry says with a shrug. “He won't know.” There's something about his tone that seems almost challenging. Louis might be imagining it, but it's like a line has been drawn and Louis has to pick a side. He watches as Harry drops down in the middle of the couch on his knees, spreading himself open and sticking his cute little arse out, waiting. Louis realizes it's mad that he's even debating what to do. It's mad because his very beautiful boyfriend is starkers on the couch, waiting for him, and this should not be a decision worth thinking over. With a shake of his head, he walks up behind him and leans down to kiss the back of his neck, letting his fingers drift down over Harry's bum, fingertips grazing his skin.
      “Let me grab the lube,” he says, nipping his teeth over Harry's shoulder. “And you absolutely may not nut all over the couch.” Harry chuckles hoarsely and turns his head so Louis can see his smile. He leans down to kiss him softly before jogging awkwardly back to the bedroom, his hand on his cock to keep it from bobbing around and his jeans down around his thighs. When he gets back, Harry is slowly stroking himself, his arse moving up and down as he fucks his hand. If he didn't have a job to do, Louis thinks he might just like to sit down, grab a glass of wine, and watch the show. Maybe another time, he muses.
      “Okay there, mister impatient,” Louis sighs, approaching him. “Hands off for me, alright? It's my turn.” He kneels on the floor behind Harry and pulls the boy's hips down, giving him a lovely angle for what he's about to do. The first tentative lick makes him moan loudly, pushing back on Louis' face like a plea for more. Louis happily grants it and licks out again, more firmly this time. He likes to take his time with this part and he waits until Harry is shaking from his tongue before he gets his fingers lubed up and starts pushing them in, getting him loosened up. Harry can fuck with the best of them, has literally made Louis cry as he gets in deep, but there's something really spectacular about seeing him like this. He's so uninhibited and shows no shame in the way he grinds down on Louis' fingers, whining for more.
      “You gonna come if I wank you a bit?” He asks, two fingers stretching Harry out, getting him ready for a third.
      “No, please, I can hold it,” he responds quickly.
      “Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop.” Louis reaches his free hand between Harry's thighs, being sure to graze over his balls in the process. He's not surprised to find that he's still quite hard and he circles his fingers in a firm grip to start wanking him slowly as his other hand continues to stretch him out. Only a few minutes later, Harry has to ask Louis to stop and Louis deems him ready to go. So he stands and strips off his clothes, giving his own cock a few tugs to make sure it's nice and hard. As he applies the condom he'd grabbed along with the lube, he sees Harry rest his head sideways on the top of the couch, a serene smile playing at his lips.
      “Why so happy?” He asks, smiling himself as he rolls the latex down to sheath his dick. Sometimes he thinks about asking Harry about going without it, but something always holds him back.
      “What's not to be happy about?” He asks lazily, glancing up at Louis over his shoulder. “These are happy times.” Louis' smile grows, the fondness evident in the wrinkles by his eyes as he slathers himself with lube. Maybe he will let him nut on the couch. Maybe he owes him that much.
      “Alright, cutie, arse up,” he says, giving his bum a little smack as he centers himself behind Harry, dick in hand. As Harry lifts himself, scooting his knees back to give him more balance, Louis holds onto the boy's hip with one hand, the other guiding him toward the hole in front of him, shining with lube. He bites his lip as he pushes against it, tight as anything, until he squeezes inside. Harry gasps just like he always does and Louis groans, lifting one of his feet up onto the couch next to Harry.
      “Alright?” He asks tightly as he slides in further, getting himself mostly in before he lets go of his cock and grips onto Harry's hips with both hands, steadying himself.
      “Fucking great,” Harry grits back, shifting back, trying to take the last inch or two of Louis' cock.
      “Hold on,” Louis says quickly, rubbing his thumbs over Harry's skin. “Slow down, babe.” Harry's enthusiasm is always appreciated, but he has a tendency to take too much, too fast, and sometimes he overdoes it. One time he'd been riding Louis and Louis didn't stop him and Harry could barely sit up the next day.
      “Yeah,” Harry breathes out, nodding over the edge of the couch. “Sorry, just love how you feel.” Louis smiles and rolls his eyes to himself because Harry is too much sometimes. He's too good, too pretty, too kind. He's too much for Louis and Louis ends up feeling bad being the one who gets him. There's an imbalance that weighs in the back of his mind almost constantly. He's kind of an asshole and his boyfriend is a fucking saint. It doesn't seem right. He moves his hips slowly, thrusting shallowly as Harry relaxes around him. It takes a while, but Louis is in no rush. He slides his fingers up over Harry's sides and rocks gently against his arse, watching his dick disappear inside. It's sort of mesmerizing and Louis just stares, feeling the slide of muscles over him as he moves in and out, in and out. He keeps watching as his hips speed up until Harry is moaning and begging for more. This time, Louis knows he's ready and he fucks in heavily, letting his hips meet the skin of Harry's arse with a smack and enjoying the cry that rips from Harry's lungs when he does.
      “God,” he mutters as his nails bite into Harry's skin. He starts a rhythm, his eyes dragging over the long body underneath him. The sight is beautiful and the noises are better, little whimpers and moans punctuated by heavy, shuddering breaths. Louis smiles as he listens, glad that he doesn't have to beg him to keep it down now. He always feels so bad when he has to stifle those pretty sounds, but he feels worse when Niall refuses to look him in the eye the next day.
      “Good, babe?” He asks just to hear words come out of Harry's mouth. He knows just how fucking good it is.
      “Yeah, really- so good, Louis,” he answers, his voice squeaking out the words as Louis drives into him. Louis bites down on his lip, pulling Harry back on him to meet his thrusts, and he's just about to tell Harry to touch himself when he hears someone outside the door. His first instinct is to tell them to fuck off, but then he hears a key and that can only mean one thing. Before his body can catch up with his brain, though, the door swings open and Niall is there, not to mention Josh.
      “Fuck,” Louis practically shouts, pulling out of Harry as quickly as he can without hurting him and searching quickly for a blanket or something to cover him up. “Fuck shit fuck where's- close the door!” Everything is a blur and Louis thinks he might have a heart attack, jumping when he hears the door slam shut loudly. Harry has the nerve to laugh like this is a fucking sitcom, not realizing that Louis is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He runs into his bedroom, praying Harry will have the sense to follow because his heart is pounding and he thinks he might have to vomit. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he drops his head into his hands and tries not to replay the flash of Niall's face he'd seen. He tries not to see it, but it's there and Louis threads his fingers into his hair and pulls, feeling jittery and sick. It's not a normal reaction to your best mate and his- his friend, snogging buddy, whatever- walking in on you having sex with your boyfriend. He knows it's not normal, but he's fighting back tears and bile that tastes like guilt and he doesn't fucking know why.
      “I think they left,” Harry says casually, walking into the room. “Babe,” he adds softly, probably noticing that Louis is still completely panicked. Louis feels him sit down next to him and kiss his shoulder as he pulls Louis' hands out of his hair. “It's not a big deal. In fact, I'm surprised that's the first time we've been walked in on.” Louis nods to appease him but he doesn't think Harry understands. Louis doesn't even understand, though. He just hates making Niall uncomfortable or angry and, based on the slamming of the door, Louis can only assume that's what he's done.
      “Yeah, I know,” he finally says when he feels less like he's going to be sick. “I just got shaken up, I think.” Harry kisses his cheek, then reaches between Louis' legs to peel the condom off of his softening dick.
      “Don't suppose we're going to finish up, huh?” He asks, tossing the condom in the rubbish bin in the corner.
      “Don't suppose,” Louis agrees. For an evening that started so well, it sure did plummet fast.

***

Harry leaves an hour or so later and Louis waits nervously for Niall's return. He's able to mostly drown out his thoughts with meaningless telly, but they creep up now and again. Why wasn't Niall at work? Why was he with Josh instead? Where is he now? Louis has to admit that his preoccupation with his mate's potentially romantic relationship, even if it is a bloke, is a little strange, but they've always been a little strange. Anyone who's ever met them could tell them that and many have. They've been inseparable since they were five so they know little details of each other that most friends just don't. Not even a one-off fuck could keep them apart. Within a week, the awkwardness was gone and they were the same as ever, watching scary films in the dark with their bodies pressed together and, when it got too scary for Niall, their fingers entwined. It's not until well after midnight that Louis realizes that Niall is not actually coming home tonight. The sick feeling comes back, just as strong as in the moments following Niall's surprise entry hours before.


Hellow,
Fijn weekend allemaal.
So. Ze zijn betrapt op de bank,
terwijl ze het daar niet mochten doen. Oops!
En waarom voelt Louis zich zo down?
x

Reacties (2)

  • kaleidoscoop

    JIJ MET DAT BETRAPPEN OOK. GLOEIENDE TERING.

    5 jaar geleden
  • louisharry

    Zoveel porn.

    Zo geweldig.

    5 jaar geleden

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