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koutaro on ao3

Summary: Little black dress just walked into the room.

Work Text:

Louis quite enjoyed parties. In fact, he attended to them on more often occasions than not because that meant he could flaunt off his new party dresses that fit his curves wonderfully. He was no narcissist, but he didn’t disagree when the men at the club told him he looked sexy.

He stood in the full length mirror now, his lower lip caught between his teeth in contemplation. Red or black? He’d bought two dresses that day and both of them were absolutely ravishing-- curve fitting how he liked it, and short so that it cut off right above his knee. They weren’t too constricting, either--clung to him just enough that he could move around. The red one was a low cut thing, and though he didn’t have any breasts, it made up for it towards the bottom where the velvety fabric outlined his often sought after arse and hips.

Although he quite liked the red, he figured he’d go with black--it was a bachelor’s party for his room mate’s friend, and although Louis was a cross dresser, Zayn invited him along on the means of ‘You’ve still got a cock, who cares if you wear a dress?’. Louis hung the red dress up on its hanger reluctantly and began to wiggle into his black dress. It was a lot more clingy than the red; fit like a glove, and he hoped he didn’t draw too much unneeded attention.

“Mate, how long does it take for you to get dressed?” Called a voice from the other side of the door, and he knocked on it twice. Louis groaned and smoothed out his dress with flittering hands, before glancing at the clock. It was twenty minutes til when they were supposed to leave, and he still needed to put on makeup and, god did he need to shave. He was starting to get manly legs, and if Louis was anything it wasn’t manly.

“What of it?” He called back, running his fingers through his caramel hair. He kept it short in a pixie cut; the last time he tried to grow it out he found that it was nothing but a mess and it always got caught in the clasps of his bra when he wore them with more curvaceous dresses.

“We’re s’posed to be leaving soon, lovey. You’re not even ready yet.” He reminded him.

“Beauty before time.” He replied, getting up to find his razor. He perched himself on the toilet seat and shaved quickly, making sure to reach his thighs because hey, you never knew when someone would take you home. He figured that the party would be full of straight men at a strip club, watching all of the female strippers, but it didn’t hurt to take precautions.

If Zayn had said anything else, Louis didn’t hear him because he was deep in the back of the closet in search of his skin tone stockings. With a grunt, he stood on his toes to retrieve his shoe box that contained his heels, only to stumble back unsuccessfully. He didn’t recall anyone other than himself storing those shoes up there, so why in the hell couldn’t he reach them?

He jumped up and swiped them off quickly, and the box tumbled down, missing his head by a hair’s width. “Almost ready!” He called, padding back over to the bed quickly. He plopped himself down and rolled his stockings on quicker than any other occasion, slid into his shiny black heels, and grabbed his matching hand bag. He’d have to do his make up in the car.
~;~

It was chilly that night, and Louis wished he’d brought at least a cardigan along with him. He slipped his arms around Zayn’s bicep, the only sound being his heels clicking along the pavement as they walked the way up to the club, and the pulsing music that was loud enough to slip and pound through the walls.

Zayn held the gift for the bachelor, Niall, in one hand, and he glanced at Louis sidelong. “There’s a kid; Harry. He’s nothing but trouble--”

“I understand, mumma.” Louis rolled his eyes and nudged Zayn in the ribs, “Let me have some fun, would you? I’m sure I’ll be fine…” He trailed off as they walked into the club, his eyes skirting around in muse. The interior was considerably warmer than it was outside, due to sliding and dancing bodies already on the dance floor. Certainly, the guest of honor must have been a party hard lad, because the club was cleared out only for his guests, and boy was it filled to the brim. It was dark and colorful lights swung around in sync with the beat of the song. Louis recognized it to be some Britney Spears ballad, but he was distracted by the unfamiliar scents and people around him.

This was his type of party--plenty of people to pick and choose from, oh! A bar!

Although the club was a dingy, dank little joint, it was nothing to complain about. It was probably considered home for most people, and the pulsating throng of dancing bodies made Louis bounce with adrenaline. He detached himself from his mate’s arm before Zayn could finish rambling off about how much of a heart breaker Harry was, and flittered off like a pixie.

Zayn was slightly taken aback after he’d finished his lecture to see the small boy’s absence, and he muttered a string of regretful slurs, because he could already hear Louis stumbling through the flat, mulling on and on about how much of a heartthrob Harry Styles was. It was either that or him sobbing on the couch because of heartbreak, tub of vanilla icecream in his lap; a mixture of both, sure, but it would be something.

Louis was absolutely astounded by the atmosphere of this joint--The Outstretched Lion, was it? By now his eyes had adjusted to the tomblike and womb-like imminent darkness of the club. Bright neon beer signs were mounted on the wall, illuminating the faces and bodies of the crowd, while others disappeared into the contrasting blackness.

How many of these people have I met before...? How many would make love tonight? How many would die tonight? he wondered, and as he continued to push his body through the mound of people, he felt a chill of adrenaline--actually, he couldn’t be sure as to what it was, but it was something. As if there were someone watching him.
Little did he know that he’d hit it spot on; someone was watching him, had been ever since he sashayed into the club. And, speak of the devil and he shall be summoned, it was none other than Harry Styles who was staring down that confident little body as she walked across the room.

“Woah, little black dress at twelve o’clock,” He commented to the man who stood beside him. Liam tipped his chin up in acknowledgment, his eyes sifting through the crowd to pick her out.

“Dress? Isn’t this an all guys thing?” He asked, swirling his drink around in its glass. Harry lifted his shoulders, not making much of it because either way, that sweet thing was a shag on 300 euro heels.

“Bet you a hundred I can have her in my bed.” Harry challenged, watching as the pixie like lovely slid onto a bar stool.

“Him.” Zayn gruffed, and Harry looked up in surprise to see the raven haired lad had come over. “That’s a him. My roommate, actually.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but that didn’t mean that he was letting down on the offer. A cross dresser, that wasn’t something you saw often.

“Hey-o, Malik.” Greeted Liam, and Zayn gave a dismal wave, because his gaze was focused on Harry.

“If you hurt him, you’ll get it back sevenfold. From me.” He warned, and though Harry nodded, he wasn’t really listening. His original To-Do List after tonight went from going home and climbing into bed, to--

“What’s his name?” Harry asked, and Zayn answered with a small, curious,

“Louis.”

Climbing into bed, and Louis. His to-do list was now Louis, he confirmed with a small nod, and he pushed himself up off the wall.

“I’ll be right back,” He sang, and with that, he picked his beer up off of the small table, knocked back a powerful swig, and began to strut his way over to this new person of interest. Little black dress.

Harry wasn’t sure what he found so alluring about the boy. It could be the way the dress complimented his killer curves with such ease, or the fact that the boy was lust in itself, and to hell if he didn’t even know what he was doing to some people. It was impossible to look that good without having to try, but it seemed that Louis pulled it off just fine.

He watched Louis wait for his drink to arrive, watched him swing his dainty legs to and fro, his chin propped in his palm as if he was experiencing wishful thinking or some sort, because god did he look dreamy. Harry realized it was him experiencing the wistful thinking, and he paused a moment, waiting, watching.

A moment later, Louis’ gin and tonic slid in front of him, and the bartender was gone before he could even look up to mouth the words "Thanks,”.

"Wouldn't have mattered anyway.." he mused, as it is clearly understood that one speaks of gratitude with cash, not words. Everyone's your best friend when you're flying high, you know.

He took his first sip of the simple mixture, cold and icy, slightly sweet and tangy against his lips. He held the drink in his mouth for just a moment and let the ice and gin and slip of lime pulp wallow against her tongue, and he felt like a man in solitary kissing his first woman in ten years.
He felt a pair of hands on his waist then, and jumped at the sensation. It was warm, and i he gave it another second of thought, foreign. Turning quickly, his eyes locked with another pair’s.

“Now, certainly you could warn me before just grabbing me like that, Z--” Louis’ thoughts were cut off with a surprised squeak, because it wasn’t Zayn’s face that hovered above his, nor was it his usual armani scent that lingered. This time it was a totally different lad and instead of hazel there was green, endless amounts of pure green that he found himself staring into for god knows how long.

“Hi.” Said the boy, and his drawl was low and sultry, something that Louis wouldn’t mind hearing more of. The boy’s hands still had a firm perch on his hips and Louis turned into his touch, his legs dangling over the edge of his seat. He swallowed the lingering tang of his drink and managed to smile a little. With realization that he had yet to reply, he lifted a hand to quickly push his falling hair from his eyes.

“Oh! Hi, yes, hi.” He giggled nervously, both hands clasped tight around his drink.

He smiled a lazy smile, and Louis could only stare at him in wonderment because his touch made the small hairs on his arms raise, despite the heat. He liked to think he had felt his touch a thousand times in his dreams, and now she couldn't stand it's reality. Just as soon as as he felt him, he was gone, dancing off into the throng, smiling and touching a dozen other men in the same casually, yet oh-so-intimate fashion.

Louis blinked in bafflement and he gasped, sliding down from his seat quickly. “Bastard.” He whispered in muse, before tossing back the rest of his drink and hurrying off to find him.

It was almost as if this were some childish game of hide and seek, because Louis had spent a consecutive fifteen minutes wandering around the club in search of the tall, lanky boy. He would be there for one moment, and they would catch each others’ gaze. He would pull a lofty smirk, and Louis would giggle triumphantly before rushing forward in attempt to catch him.

And then he’d disappear yet again, and Louis wondered how much longer he’d be able to carry out walking around in these heels. He stopped in the middle of the dancing people for a moment to catch his breath, and he squirmed a little because his thong was riding up in the most uncomfortable way.

And before he could walk off to search for the boy who had already got him whipped, a pair of warm, fairly large hands were wrapped around his waist, and he gasped a little as the person behind him gave them a squeeze.

“Hi.” He said, and although Louis had only heard his voice all of one time, he recognized it as soon as the word tumbled from his lips.

“You, finally!” Louis grinned, and he whipped around to see just who he wanted to see. “That was tiring, you know. Surely I should get some sort of prize.”

The curly haired lad smiled, his tongue flicking out over his plump, red lips--they were so impossibly red, like the cherry floating in the drink he held now. He held two of them actually, and Louis blushed as he held on out.

“Tipsy Seagull. Greatest thing here.” He said, and that voice got him crazy. So low, and sexy, and the way his lips moved…

“Thank you.” Louis mumbled, taking the drink from him. He rose it to his lips and took a sip, the sweet, yet considerably small beverage snaking its way down his throat. He’d never had anything like it, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it.

Things between the two were a bit quiet. They bounced on their heels as the alcohol made its appearance, and Louis’ cheeks were tinted pink from it--he’d never had a strong gut for booze or vodka or any drink, and he wondered if Zayn would make him pay for dragging the drunk boy home.

He watched as the still unnamed boy leaned forward, his slick lips hovering close to his ear. “Dance with me?” He said, and despite the warmth of his breath, shivers coursed up and down Louis’ spine. He nodded, up for a challenge, and he grabbed the boy’s large hand in his smaller one, before leading him to the center of the crowd.

‘Please Don’t Stop The Music’ by Rihanna was playing, and Louis was already feeling his heart pound along to the beat. His front was pressed against Louis’, and he looked up, holding his gaze as he started to dance. Music flowed as drinks did, down his throat and flowing about his system fluidly as if it were the very blood of his veins, and he set the empty glass at his feet. Both of his hands were free now, as were his new partner’s, for he followed suit. His body molded against the taller lad--blasted, he still hadn’t learnt his name, though he couldn’t bring himself to ask, because he was too distracted to form words. Coherent ones, at least, because their bodies seemed to be speaking a language that no mouth could.

It was now at the chorus that Louis was comfortable enough to being rolling his hips along to the song, the tension that was ever there--if it had ever been created, had evaporated and Louis felt as if he’d known the boy for the longest time, because their crotches were getting along just as so, and Louis had to bite his lip hard to keep himself from groaning.

His hands fit in Louis’ hips easily, guiding him as he moved. “You come here often?” his voice asked, and it was husky and lower than before, his green eyes intoxicated and dazed.

Louis shook his head, shifting on his heels that he already wanted to kick off. The only reason he was keeping them on was because it gave him a reasonable height. If he did take them off, he’d probably be a foot shorter than this boy, and he was quite embarrassed of his five-foot-nine stature.

“First time.” He said, his eyes dragging up and down the boy’s body. Now that they were so close together, he noted how incredibly fit he was. He was lanky, yet his chest was firm and muscular--that he could see through the fabric of his simple white t-shirt. Tattoos littered his skin like splotches of artistically spilled ink, and Louis wanted to run his hands all over him. He wanted to be all over him, he wanted to feel him, he wanted him.

He nodded, and Louis snaked his arms around his neck. “You?” He asked, his usually quirky and high voice slowing to a small slur.

“I’m here all the time. It’s like a home, y’know?” He chuckled, though he was just rambling now and Louis giggled, because he didn’t know, but that’s what made it funny.

Louis didn’t respond, though, because now it was just him and this boy in the club.

Louis felt his hands grip his hips tighter as he began to put effort into his grinding, his hips rolling and jerking to the music, his hair falling over his eyes. He tucked his head into the boy’s warm neck, letting his hands roam.

“I never learned your name.” Louis whispered, and he could feel the small chuckle vibrate in his throat against his forehead.

“I figure you should know it, shouldn’t you?” He mused, and it took Louis a little while to figure out what he meant. Because I’ll be screaming it, he thought to himself, before the boy uttered a simple, “Harry.”

So this was Harry. The amount of want Louis felt towards him had only increased, and he felt things pick up.

“You’re Harry.” He mumbled, gripping his tousled curls in his fists as Harry’s hands slipped to cup his rounded bum. He bit his lip and turned, pressing himself against him so that they were now back to front. Harry’s hands pinned Louis against him on his waist, and he continued to grind against the present bulge in his circulation-slicing jeans. Harry’s lips pressed neatly against Louis’ neck, and he started suddenly.

“It’s alright, you know.” Harry mumbled softly against his warm skin, littering kisses behind his ear and down his throat. Louis swallowed and nodded, hips swaying to the beat, rolling and rocking as his hands found their way back up, and behind harry’s neck. “Who you doin’ it for?” He mused, and Louis hummed in response. The answer was obvious and it hung between them like so, whispers of alcohol swirling in a thick sweet cloud. His name was on Louis’ tongue and it came out as a breath, slow, careful.

“You,” He murmured finally, licking his lips as Harry moved his arms carefully around him. Louis swallowed the lingering alcohol, moving along with Harry’s guiding hands. They brought his bum right to his crotch, and Harry massaged Louis’ hips with a low groan. He wondered how much longer he could wait. Louis had him throbbing in his pants, his to-die-for ass moving fluently as if it were modern lingo, or the language he spoke. God, did he have such a nice ass, a nice everything, actually, and Harry wanted to do a number of things to it.

They kept at it for a while, and somehow they’d migrated across the room. Louis was pressed against the wall now, and he was a breathless mess. Harry was all over him, and Louis’ legs were wrapped around his waist. Louis didn’t remember the first time their lips connected, but they were moving with each other like happy friends, and he didn’t mind it. Harry’s hand had slipped up his dress cheekily, his fingers curling under the hem of his stocking, and Louis gasped a little at the warmth of his large hand against his thigh. Harry kept it there, letting it rest right on the inside of his thigh like the tease he was. Louis needed him, he needed him and Harry knew it, but still, he let his hand sit there, dangerously close to his hard.

Somewhere along the way Harry had asked if he could take Louis home, and he was sure he’d nodded, or maybe even said yes, but he couldn’t remember. He was making his way outside, nonetheless, and Louis was perched on his hips. His dress rode up his thighs, and the cool air caused him to shiver.

When he had time to breathe, he stared at Harry with a wild look in his eyes as the boy gripped his thighs and walked down the sidewalk, his steps slow and labored as the alcohol slipped and sank into their veins. Louis wondered which was more drunk and if in the end this night would be simply another fling. He was sure Harry had done so before, and Louis wouldn’t lie--so had he. But something about Harry made him hope that this tangled mess of drunken thoughts and slurred words would amount to something more. Something of value, yet something that couldn’t just be bought.

Before he could give his contemplation about their alcohol levels or Harry or Harry’s cock anymore time, he found himself tumbling none too gently into the back seat of a car. The seats were chilled due to the vehicle being parked out in the night, and Louis shivered as the cool material was pressed against the skin of his back. “H-Harry,” He breathed, struggling to sit up. Harry had shut the door, and he was sauntering down the street now. Louis was confused, and with a frown, he attempted to open the door to let himself out. It was locked. “Harry?” He said again. He was progressing down the street fairly quick, and Louis felt a sudden panic rise in his throat. Maybe Zayn was right about Harry--maybe he should have listened to Zayn, because he was in a situation now.

After a consecutive amount of minutes that included trying to open the door, kicking off his heels, and throwing a frustrated tantum when he realized he was trapped, he rummaged through his handbag and pulled out his phone, about to send an s-o-s to Zayn, when Harry came back.

He was holding a bag now and Louis strained to see what was inside as he opened the driver’s door. “Sorry.” He mumbled, sitting himself in the seat. “Hadda buy some condoms.”

Louis blew out a long sigh of relief. Condoms, it was the blasted condoms. And here he thought that he was kidnapped. He’d pictured him locked in handcuffs by the end of the night, but he was simply buying some cheap condoms at the liquor store down the way. Harry looked over at Louis, who was sitting quietly. It took him this long to realize the condoms were for him, it was another way of confirming that yes they were going to fuck, and Louis wondered that if the fact he’d bought an entire box determined that they’d be doing it more than once. He bit his lip and shifted in the seat--he was still hard from the earlier arousal in the bar and he hoped they would get to Harry’s place sooner rather than later.

And in the thick silence of the moment, Harry finally grunted and rubbed a lazy hand over his crotch. “Mmm, come here.” He ordered, and Louis unbuckled himself quickly from the seat with a small whine.

“Home. Bed.” He told him incoherently, and Harry waved a dismal hand. Louis crawled over the centre console and perched himself on the boy’s lap, his legs spread so that they dangled on either side of him. “What?” He mumbled. Harry stared him down, his saucers of emerald raking over his appearance as if he were a judge in a beauty pageant. Something of the realm. Louis gnawed on his lower lip, and Harry scoffed, leaning forward. He pressed his mouth to Louis’--not in a kiss, but a simple nudge.

“Don’t do that,” He told him, and his voice was softly fond.

“Do what?” He murmured dazedly, licking his thin lips.

“Bite your lip. Like that. It’s my job.”

Louis giggled at this, and he rolled his eyes, his small hands splaying out over the boy’s warm chest. “Cheely, real cheeky, Styles.”

“Hey.” He chuckled, raising his hands to feel Louis’ cheeks. His touch was gentle, and considerably warm. Louis stared up at him, and though he could see the alcohol in his eyes, he knew that some of the real Harry was there. Even if he hadn’t seen the real Harry. If club Harry wasn’t the real Harry, could he possibly be a different person?

And then he was kissing him--a slow kiss that tasted like that drink they’d both had. Tipsy Panda, or something? No, it was a bird. A tisy bird, but he couldn’t care less. He felt their lips mold, and he locked his arms around his neck; holding on tight. He scooted forward on his lap, bum bringing friction to Harry’s still hard cock and he groaned, the slow kiss falling into that of hunger.

Harry’s hands held Louis’s hips and drew him impossibly close, his body fit against Harry’s. Louis’s hands slipped under his shirt and he groped and rubbed his chest, their mouths connected in a heated kiss that turned him on more than he already was. Tongues mingled and hands groped desperately. It went from want to need in a matter of minutes, and Louis realized that they were still in the parking lot of the bar.

He wasn’t sure if he could wait until they drove home to be fucked by Harry. He had the condoms and the lube sitting right there on the floor of the car, and Louis would let Harry fuck him into the back seat and he wouldn’t mind in the least bit, oh, not at all.

“Fuck me,” He groaned, stretching out his leg to reach the lever on the side of the seat. He pressed his foot down on it and in his effort, his dress slipped higher up his thighs, revealing the hem of his stockings. He blushed as Harry stared, and then the chair flew back, Louis flat on top of him.

Harry gave a smirk, and he snaked his arms around Louis. His hands settled on his ass, and he shook his head. “Wasn’t like I was planning on it, or anything. Because I just walked into the liquor store with a full hard on because of you, and then mustered up the strength to go up to the counter and purchase a box of extra large condoms.” He said, and now and then his voice would slur because of the after affects of the alcohol, and Louis was blushing red.

“E-extra large?” He whispered, and Harry nodded slowly.

“Oh, yeah. You’re in for a treat, princess.” He said, and Louis whined quietly--a desperate whine and a anxious whine, because he was about to cum on his god damn expensive dress, and no-no, that couldn’t happen.

Apparently Harry had different plans.

He flipped over, and Louis was pinned to the seat. His head spun and he bit his lip hard to keep himself from crying out--he couldn’t be handled so roughly, because he was fragile and the definition of delicate. Not only that but his mind was already whirling like a centrifuge because he’d drank more than he should have, and regretting it was useless.

But he stayed quiet, because if he told Harry, he worried he would stop and there’d be no sex at all.

Harry’s knees nudged Louis’ legs wide and he thanked his mum for putting him into gymnastics when he was a small poppet of only twelve, because once you were flexible you were always flexible, even if the extents surprised you. “I’m gonna fuck you in your pretty little dress,” he said, and Louis had to bite his lip hard to keep himself from protesting. He groaned quietly as Harry’s hips rutted down roughly against his, and his lips connected with his neck. “And you’re gonna love it.”

Louis curled his toes and pushed his hips up, his hands moving to wrap tightly around Harry’s neck. He swallowed thickly, whimpering impatiently as his bulge rubbed against his own. It was clear through his dress and, if Louis would say so himself, it was not at all comfortable whilst he was wearing a vibrant red thong underneath. Harry had acknowledged his squirming and he pushed the dress up, revealing his tones skin underneath. Louis bit his lip and watched the boy curiously--his pupils were blown with such a hunger now, and his curls fell over his eyes.

“You’re such a pretty doll,” he complimented lowly, his fingers walking up Louis’ thigh. He splayed it out over his clothed skin, his warm palm searing through the thin fabric of his stocking. He looked up at Louis and rubbed it slowly. “You know that, don’t you? You know you’re such a pretty little plaything.”

Louis’ lips parted, his chest rising and falling as his hand moved to code-red territory.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, his fingers already curling around the elastic of his thong. Louis nodded slowly, bending his knees as Harry slowly dragged the lingerie down his thighs, pushing his dress up so that it lay on his belly. Harry seemed to muse over Louis’ body and his whole being himself, taking it slow as the drawl of the words he spoke. Louis and Harry were opposites--he was short, quick and quirky while Harry was tall, lanky and slow.

He wrapped his hand around Louis’ length slowly, and he squeaked softly. “Just fuck me.” He groaned irritably. Harry seemed surprised that Louis spoke and he looked up.

“Eager? Princess gets what he wants, doesn’t he?” Cooed Harry, and Louis licked his lips. As much as his next words sounded petty, he said them anyway.
“Yes. I do.”

Harry chuckled at that, his bass voice silk and sultry in one. “Well, angel, the tables have turned.”

Louis scowled and propped himself up on his elbows, watching Harry as he turned to retrieve the bag of things and what not that was in the seat beside them. He rummaged through it for a second, even if there were only one to two things in it and he pulled out the small bottle of lube and box of condoms. His pants weren’t even undone yet and Louis wondered how junior could breathe in there. His jeans were so tight they could have been painted on, and he could see his hard through them easily.

He plopped the little bottle of lube on Loui’s belly and looked up at him, his hands slowly working with the buckle of his belt. While he worked at it, his lip caught between his teeth, he sat himself on Louis’ thighs. “Do you need a stretch?” He asked slowly.

Louis almost shook his head because he wanted Harry so bad, needed him so bad. But he’d only had a hook up maybe once or twice, three times tops and he wasn’t risking any chances of Harry’s massive tearing him open. How mortifying would that be, waltzing into the hospital(well, limping painfully, probably)with a torn up asshole. Time comes and they ask you how it happened and you can only say, “Well, I got fucked really hard.”

He nodded then. Harry grinned, though Louis couldn’t be sure if it was because he’d finally undone his jeans and tugged them down half past his thighs, or if it was because he got to finger fuck Louis until he fell apart, and then got him hard with his tongue for the next round. A mixture of both, most likely, but mostly because he got his pants done.

He flipped the cap on the bottle of lube and for the moments that he applied an ample amount of the clear gel on his long, nimble fingers, Louis sat in the silence, the only sound being their united shallow breathing and the pounding music from the club up the street. When he was done, he tossed the bottle aside.

“Spread your legs nice and pretty for me, princess.” He ordered. Louis already had his legs spread and he was sure Harry couldn’t think they could go possibly wider, so he propped his feet on the edge of the chair instead and waited. Harry didn’t seem to find the image adequate and he scooted forward, using his hips to nudge the boy’s legs farther apart.

“H-Harry, I…” He breathed, shifting in the seat.

“Shhh.” He shushed, rubbing Louis’ hip with his uncoated hand. “You’re flexible, work with me, baby.”

Louis groaned as Harry wriggled his middle finger into his hole. “Fine.” He muttered reluctantly, Harry pushed it deep in--god were his fingers long.
“Did you know…” He began, pumping his finger slowly but surely. “That this lube is pineapple flavored?”

Louis rose his eyebrows in amusement. “Tropical.” He mumbled, shifting around his single finger. “Gimme another.”

Harry for once went by Louis’ terms and added a second close beside the first, inching them forward until there wasn’t much space between his fingertips and his prostate. Louis scooted up desperately, but with little to no success he was stuck with minimal pleasure. In fact, he was simply uncomfortable that he was just letting his fingers sit there, and he would start moving them himself if Harry didn’t hurry up. He had three in there now and Louis was caught by surprise when his fingers budged.

“FInally.” He breathed, and Harry gave a cheeky smirk.

“Oh, I’ll show you finally.”

He drew his three fingers back and Louis winced at the momentary sting--he’d learn to grow used to it, because sex wasn’t ever going to be absolutely painless and the combination of the sting and the pleasure was something that he figured he would anticipate after plenty of rounds of it. Harry scissored his middle and ring finger, the other staying close beside it’s partner. This was more like it, though his movements were relatively coarse. He pumped them now, the lube allowing them to slide in and out of him freely and to his leisure. Louis moaned and there was a fracture in Harry’s movements. It had been the first real moan he’d heard for Louis and in all likings to the sexiness of the blissful sound he made it his obligation to pull more of it out of him.

“Right there, mmm?” He said, and Louis nodded.

“Well… Not there, but--”

Harry thrusted his fingers forward with a snap of his wrist and Louis gasped.

“Fuck--there!”

Harry pushed them deeper, his opposite hand gripping Louis’ thigh tight enough that he was sure there would be finger shaped bruises beneath the thin fabric of his skin toned stocking.

“H-Harry, I’m--oh, god,” He groaned and gripped his brown curls as he came, his orgasm spilling itself out over the fabric of Harry’s simple button down. Louis could almost apologize, but Harry was keeping him occupied as he continued to fuck him with his long, nimble fingers, working him up to his next hard. He wasn’t done yet, and wouldn’t be for a long while. Louis whined and looked up at Harry, his cerulean saucers hazed with lust and arousal. Harry’s eyes couldn’t be read, his pupils blown so that only a slim ring of honey-jade emerald was seen.
“Fuck me, or damn it all to hell,” He whimpered. Harry’s fingers stilled, massaging against his prostate, which made Louis squirm and moan again. It was just what Harry wanted to hear and he finally pulled his fingers out, licking the remaining lube up with a delighted purr.

“Tropical is right. God, I wanna eat you.” He said, leaning down to press kisses all over his tender thighs. Louis gasped as Harry nipped and sucked at his skin, glad that he decided to shave earlier. Smooth and shaven, like Harry liked it, apparently. Louis’ hips ached from spreading his legs for so long, and he was relieved when Harry collected them and draped them on his slim hips.

He reached for the bottle of lube again, and while he lubed himself up generously, Louis took the time to gaze at him quietly. No matter how awkward and slow this was panning out, he couldn’t help but admire the boy above him with more than just a ‘grateful-he-had-a-big-dick’ sort of thought. He was something Louis would have a hard time shrugging off after this fuck and go night.

“Um,” Harry mumbled. Louis was drawn from his thoughts, and he looked up to meet Harry’s gaze. He had a lamb like look in his eyes; almost helpless. and Louis’ brow furrowed.

“What is it, baby?” He asked, and Harry held out the already unwrapped condom to Louis.

“Can’t get it on.”

Louis blinked and bit back a laugh. There Harry was, on his knees with his dick out. He looked like the guy who could wrap it up in point-two seconds, but there he was. ‘I can’t get it on.’.

Louis pushed himself up on his elbows, a small smile pulling up on his lips. “Give me a new one, babe. I’ll help you out.” He whispered softly, taking the opened condom from Harry. He tossed it in the trunk, before taking the small packet from Harry. He tore it open with his teeth and looked up at him, the blue condom in his hands. “Watch me, yeah?” He said, and Harry nodded, a pink blush on his alabaster skin.

He stretched the condom gently, thumbs curled around the rim, before he pressed it to Harry’s tip and looked up at him. “Alright?” He asked. Harry nodded again.

“Well, roll it on, now,” He told him. Louis grinned at that, rolling the condom down his shaft carefully. Harry’s cock twitched underneath his fingers, which were currently wrapped around his base.

“All done.”

“Um…”

“What?”

“You’re… Still… Touching… Oh, um, I’m gonna--”

Louis burst out into fits of drunken laughter as Harry filled up the condom not nearly a hot second after he’d rolled it on, and he wondered if they’d ever get to having sex at this rate. Harry was blushing like mad, nothing more than mortified.

“Do you want me to put on a new one?” Louis cooed, batting his eyelashes. They framed his eyes in long, delicate and thick lashes, decorated with strokes of mascara. They cast shadows on his angular cheekbones and it was now that harry noticed the intricate details of Louis in his full, aroused glory. His short caramel hair was tousled and messy across his forehead, the elegant black dressed pushed up just on his hips. Harry nodded subconsciously, and Louis got to work at getting him aroused again, rubbing his tip with his thumb. Harry let out a content sigh, his hips pushing forward into Louis’ gentle touch. His hands were small, like that of… A fairy. Or a princess; there was really no difference. No, no, it was a fairy princess. There is a difference. Harry didn’t know where these mental arguments came from sometimes. ALthough he was a ‘bad boy’, he mostly thought about boys in mouse suits. But really hot boys in mouse suits… Alright, he had to admit, whether they were hot or not, it was awkward that they were in mouth suits. Well it was either that or the seal pup in lingerie.

“Earth to Harry,” Came a little voice, and Harry realized that he had spent a consecutive hand job and x-amount of minutes thinking about seal pups in lingerie. “You can fuck me now.”

He realized that the small voice was from Louis, and he had a dark look in his eyes. He nodded his head at Harry’s dick, and Harry looked down to see that it was nicely wrapped in a condom. He even lubed it up. Nice little boy, that.

He watched Louis spread his legs, and Harry suddenly remembered how much he wanted Louis. As if he had forgotten it this whole time. Blame it on his drunken state, but the want was certainly back now and he gripped Louis’ already bruising thighs.

“Ready for me, princess? Ready to take me?” He asked, his voice low and husky. Louis dug his heels into the bottom of Harry’s spine and nodded, closing his eyes as he wrapped his hand around himself and pressed his tip against Louis’ hole. Louis was unaware of how much he actually missed the feeling of being fucked and he started with the running feeling of shivering anticipation.

It was quiet now except for Louis’ small breathless whines and grunts as Harry tried to fit himself in; there was a good three and a half out of maybe nine, but the thickness was the only thing causing problems and Louis would surely be full in no time.

“Here,” He offered breathlessly, scooting up carefully. He lifted his legs up higher on Harry’s waist and grabbed his cock gently, scooting himself down with a wince. Harry seemingly had no patience and while Louis was going slow and easy, he snapped his hips forward and there he was, all the way in.

“Easier than I thought.” He announced triumphantly, and Louis flopped back in pain and disbelief that he’d actually done that without his say.

“Fuck, Harry! Fuck!” He scolded incoherently, trying to adjust quickly because he didn’t know when he would decide to move again.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah--yeah, it’s fine, just--oh, god.”

“Big?”

Louis nodded and blushed, his legs re-wrapping themselves around his hips. “You can fuck me now.” He whispered.

“You say that a lot.” Harry whispered back, and they were suddenly exchanging all of their coherent words through whispers.

Harry pulled his hips back and wiggled his hips, running his hands along the fabric of Louis’ dress.

“You should dress up for me sometime.” He said between grunts, his hips bucking with a rhythm to that of the ongoing pounding of the club. Louis parted his lips and tugged Harry closer, arms and limbs locked around him.

“Would we have sex after?” He asked, and Harry would have laughed if he weren’t quickly losing his breath. Instead it was a choppy sort of chortle, followed by an,

“But of course, my pretty.”

They were relatively silent after that as Harry’s strong thrusts picked up, Louis’ legs tightening around him. A slow moan emitted from his parted lips and he buried his face in Harry’s neck, finally accommodated to the burning that his cock caused him. Harry’s car rocked once as Harry started with a powerful thrust, his hips whipping forward into Louis.

Louis gasped and arched his back with a pleasured groan. Harry’s hands held his hips, his fingers brushing the exposed skin of his waist. “Look at you, pretty boy. Look at you in that expensive dress, taking me like a real princess. Do you like it, baby doll? How do you like my cock?” He praised, his thrusts becoming more powerful each time, until he gave a proper slam into his prostate, and Louis screamed his name loud enough that even the sound of the music from the club was momentarily drowned out. Harry held Louis’ slipping thighs and angled himself after finally finding Louis’ bundle of nerves. Louis tugged hard on his hair and moaned, his back sliding up and down the seat as he became putty in Harry’s grip.

Each pound rocked the car back, and Louis went up, then it rocked forward, and Louis came down. It was all a routine of synchronization, his moans louder than the creaking of the wheels and springs. It was dark in the car, sliding of slick bare limbs against each other, breathless pants and groans and whimpers in the mix.

Louis cried out desperately as he grinded his hips down, biting his lips harshly. He wasn’t used to such power and rough treatment. Harry’s once fond eyes were dark, the irises swallowed up whole by his black pupils.

“H-Harry, Harry,” He rasped, dragging his nails down his back. “Harry, please, baby.” He tried again, though his motions didn’t stop. He continued with his slow, yet quick thrusts and Louis found himself tasting the familiar metallic consistency of blood on his tongue. He realized he’d been biting into it, moans and whimpers and gasps being the only thing that escaped his lips. The car smelled of sweat and alcohol, and Louis found the mixture of scents comfortable and musky, though he had more important things to think about rather than the scent of the car, like how he was currently having his prostate abused by a six-foot lad with a charming smirk and a big dick.

Harry paused for a moment, calculating how much time he had left before he came. In his train of thought he was interrupted by a shrill scream from the boy underneath him, followed by strings of swearing. That boy swore religiously, harry noted--oh, and there was come on his shirt. Harry watched Louis as he came, his delicate and faerie like features smoothing out into a flat plane of ecstasy. His eyelids drooped and he looked up at Harry through those long, dark eyelashes, his lips parted as his chest rose and fell.

Harry almost came at that, but he wasn’t finished yet. He gripped Louis’ waist tight and Louis groused in protest.

“Harry, baby, please--”

He flipped over quickly, his back pressed to the warm seat. Louis found himself mounted on Harry’s hips, his legs straddling him on either side of his torso. He thrusted his hands out and pressed them against the other’s chest to steady himself, his legs spread so that his knees dug into the leather material of the front seat.

Louis hadn’t ever been in this position before and he was already worn out, his stomach twisting from his last orgasm. “Do you… I… Fuck.” He whined, shifting around Harry’s shaft. He tried getting him to cum so he wouldn’t have to fuck himself on Harry’s dick; leaning forward, clenching his walls, bouncing slightly, rolling his hips, and--Oh, I’m fucking myself on Harry’ s dick. He thought, his mouth in a small O. He was enjoying himself now, actually, small thoughtful moans stringing from his swollen lips as he tried different ways to please himself. Harry looked amused as he watched, groaning as he moved, holding his waist. The black dress covered him, pooling out over harry’s lower waist.

“That’s right, baby doll, go to town.” He murmured, his belly churning as his orgasm approached.

Louis rubbed Harry’s chest as he bit his lip in concentration, rocking and rolling his hips as he got Harry’s cock to go just where he needed.

“Oh--oh, yes,” He squeaked, bouncing up and down once to get his tip to probe his prostate. He squealed almost, tipping his head back. “That’s--mm,” He purred Harry’s name, fisting his shirt in his hands. Harry groaned and bucked his hips up into Louis as he spilled in the condom.

Louis wanted desperately to be filled up, but Harry was wrung dry and Louis was worn out.

“You did so good for me, baby doll.” He praised, moaning and panting as he tried to collect himself. His curly hair was strewn across his face in damp, matted strings, as for Louis’, his eyeliner smudged, forehead glistening with sweat.

He pulled himself of and toppled over, sprawling out across the center console. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable resting place, but he was too sore and far gone to care. His head pounded as an aftereffect of the alcohol, and he shook his head to clear the incoming fog.

He lolled his head to watch Harry pull off the condom, tying it with clumsy fingers. He glanced at Louis before rolling down the window, chucking it out at a passerby.

Louis giggled and reached over to hit him in the arm as he quickly rolled the window up. The cool wind welcomed him with a chill, goose bumps rising on his skin.

It was quiet as Louis and harry stared at each other, their rapidly beating hearts slowing as the buzzing sex drive subdued to something more like fondness and gentle, tender touches.

“Come here.” Harry said, and his voice was back to its usual slow, deep drawl. Louis mustered up a burst of energy, before sitting up and quickly crawling over. He noticed Harry held his panties in one hand and he reached for them, pouting a little as Harry pulled it back. “No, no. Let me.” He said.

He sat up and placed the small boy in his lap, reaching his arms out around him. “Legs.”

Louis stretched his legs out, which were dull and heavy and trembling. Harry slid his underwear on him and tugged them up until the waistband settled on his tummy, and with a smile of satisfaction he kissed his cheek. “There.” He whispered softly, his lips lingering by his ear. “Perfect.”

~;~

Harry had dropped Louis off that morning, after a nice long night of abundant kisses, ample laughter and plans for hundreds of dates that were to come. Louis would have never thought that he would be so whipped on a simple, klutzy, ordinary boy from a club, but here he was, the silly boy on his mind as he stumbled into his shared flat(not without a kiss from Harry, of course. possibly two, but really three.) He held his heels over his shoulder, and although he had a pounding headache and unsettled stomach(hangovers were a bitch), he couldn’t stop smiling.

Zayn heard the door open, and he grumbled, preparing his speech for the boy who had walked in. Before he could say anything, Louis let out a loud, wistful sigh.

“Zayn! Let me tell you about Harry Styles!”