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1dkinkmeme
Kink Meme - Round 2
Round 2
IS CLOSED
ALL NEW PROMPTS MUST BE MADE IN
ROUND 3
delicious / flat view
READ THE RULES BEFORE POSTING
!!! if there is another scare like this recent one the meme will be closed again. we ask that you not openly link the meme on twitter or tumblr in order to contain the meme to livejournal. anyone seen posting links to it will be asked to take ( Read more... )
The best thing, he thinks, is to ignore it. When the time comes, he thinks hopefully, he will come.
The second piece of advice is difficult to follow for entirely different reasons. At first, there's no reason to; his black mood lifts as they drive into Nashville and he feels like a weight is gone and he's charming and funny and grinning at everyone they meet. He almost forgets about New York entirely.
Louis, however, is a different story. Eleanor doesn't come out the week after his and Harry's conversation and he starts to get bitchy. No one notices at first, because it's short, sharp moments that are easily forgotten. But then Harry's sitting next to him at a signing and he's beaming at a pretty blonde girl, late teens he thinks, a bit plumper than he'd like, but not bad - and Louis is just glowering. In front of him, in contrast, is a fifteen year old girl, more than plump, with quite bad acne and frizzy ginger hair. Harry kisses his blonde on the back of the hand and earns himself a breathy giggle (should be a turn-on, he thinks vaguely), before turning his eyes down to the young redhead, who he and Louis now get to share until she moves.
'Louis, hi!' she's giggling, clutching something soft and velvety in her arms. She's clearly a fan of Louis more than him, which is fine, because Harry gets enough stick for being "too popular".
'Hi,' Louis says and his voice is flat, his eyes averted from her and down to the Yearbook edition in front of him. Harry nudges him with his knee.
'What have you got for him?' Harry asks kindly, taking Louis's arm forcefully and shoving it out to receive.
The girl flushes and bounces on her toes to come up over the table top. 'I made it myself,' she says shyly, pushing it across. Louis takes it at least, though his grasp is careless and heavy; it's some sort of carrot-teddy. A soft, stuffed carrot.
Harry laughs and grins down at her. 'That's so good!' he says brightly, reaching out and squeezing her hand. She looks like she might die. He turns to Louis, expecting a bright white smile against tanned skin, but he's looking down at it in boredom and perhaps a little derisively.
'Amazing.' He draws the word out, almost unbearably sarcastic, and Harry makes sure he shows no reaction himself, just smiles more, as though Louis is being honest. The girl, however, looks mortified. 'Do you know,' Louis continues and Harry hopes they move this girl on now, but for some reason the whole line is held up because fucking Niall is exclaiming over a giant bloody shamrock and Zayn's posing for a picture for someone else.
'What?' she asks, unsure but excited, her cheeks (pockmarked, thinks Harry unfairly and guiltily, because his own skin isn't exactly clear as a summer sky) pinked and her eyes shining.
'I don't think I will ever get sick of carrots,' he drones, his face still horribly emotionless and his hand clasping the carrot carelessly up by his ear, as though he's about to chuck it behind him without even looking where it ends up. Harry really hopes he doesn't.
'Move along!' one of the security men roars and the girl, looking bewildered that what she had hoped would be an incredible show of dedication and knowledge, is edged along to Zayn, who glances up and smiles politely and calls her "babe", but it's not what she wanted.
Harry keeps signing, keeps beaming, keeps his eye on Louis when he can.
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'Treated who like what?' asks Louis vaguely, his attention on his phone as they walk up the deserted hotel corridor towards their rooms. Zayn, Niall and Liam peel off along the way, until it's just the two of them.
'The girl at the signing. Who made you the carrot thing,' Harry reminds him, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking hunched over and dawdling. Louis can't walk fast and text at the same time.
'Dunno which one you're talking about,' Louis says, pressing send and frowning down at his screen intently.
Harry itches at his thighs through the thin inners of his pockets and sighs deeply, wishing this was easier. 'You do,' he insists. 'The redhead, quite young.'
Louis stops now and his face scrunches up thoughtfully. 'The ginger with the acne?' he asks finally.
Harry makes a frustrated noise, but nods anyway, because he doesn't want to make this about more than it already is. 'She made it for you and -'
'And what?' asks Louis, stopping now. They're outside their rooms, opposite each other, and he's not looking at his phone anymore but straight at Harry. It's almost agressive.
'And ...' trails Harry, not knowing what he was going to say next. 'And she put a lot of effort in, because she likes you. And you treated her like shit.'
Louis looks at him thoughtfully. 'Is this about you and your weird not being mean to people thing again?' he asks and Harry rolls his eyes.
'No, this is about you and you're nasty being mean to people thing,' he says, folding his arms over his chest defensively.
'Right. Okay. Well I don't care, I'm sick of pretending to love shitty carrot-based presents. It's lazy.' Louis yawns widely, his jaw cracking, and Harry feels at a loss for words. 'Was that all?' He sounds bored and for some reason it's this that stings.
'Yeah,' mutters Harry quietly, turning on his heel and quickly unlocking his door, slipping inside and shutting it quietly.
He strips his clothes off straight away, feeling hot and itchy and sweaty, before wandering into the bathroom and turning on the shower. The steam slowly fills the room and he breathes deeply, letting it fill his lungs and loosen them up. He's still tense, but this helps, and when he steps under the pounding hot stream of water, thundering down his back and easing the steadily growing pain there, he lets his mind wander without any particular direction.
Usually, he'd think about home, wondering what his mum might be doing, how his sister is, what his friends are up to ... tonight, he can't get the image of Louis's condescending sneer out of his mind. He frowns, his eyes shut tight against the barrage of water, and tries to think about what they're doing tomorrow. Rehearsals. He considers singing. He can't get Louis's sarcastic tone out of his head. He hums loudly, starts to sing some Kings of Leon. Stops. He's tense, all over again.
Scrubbing viciously at his hair with the shampoo, Harry then decides he doesn't need to think of anything else, he just needs to stay thinking of that one moment, because ... well, he can sense other thoughts creeping up on him. Thoughts he most definitely doesn't like. Thoughts which are, he realises fretfully, making him very, very hard.
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Well, it all falls apart then, really.
He'd forgotten how good it feels, to touch yourself there, to feel that sweet arousal coiling in your belly like heat from a fire. It's almost unbearable, he thinks, the sick twisting and the tensing of his stomach, but he loves it, had forgotten how much he enjoyed this. It doesn't really matter, now, that he's squeezing his cock almost too tightly and imagining Louis whispering filth in his ear, nasty, derogatory things and maybe ... maybe about other people too.
He whines, low in his throat, head tipping back and hitting the tiles with a dull clunk as his hand works faster, punishingly fast and hard, but it's the best he's felt in a long, long time.
'Fuck,' he groans and it's a tight sound, hitching at the end as his free hand scrapes judderingly up his thigh, leaving red marks that sting under the hot water. 'L-' he starts and he can't finish it, can't quite voice out loud exactly what he's imagining right now. It's worse, because in so many ways he doesn't know what he wants. There's something, something to do with the way he didn't care about her feelings, looked down on her like she'd - what? disappointed him? And then outside the room, when he looked at Harry as though to say, you think you can tell me what to do? You can't. Harry knows he can't, though, knows when it comes down to it, it's Louis's word as rule.
He comes, though, when he thinks of Louis taking his lolly and whispering low in his ear, 'There we go.'
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Knocking on the door stops him.
'Haz?' comes Louis's voice, clear and brash, and Harry shivers. He doesn't consider not opening the door, though, slopes over and swings it open, smiling involuntarily at the sight of Louis on the other side.
'Come in,' he yawns, grabbing his friend's hand and dragging him inside, slamming the door closed with his foot.
'Look, I just came to say,' Louis begins, having clearly decided on a speech. Harry doesn't much care to hear it. He pulls Louis down on the bed, noting that he's also in pyjamas, which is good, because it means he won't be leaving the room for any reason. 'Haz? Harry, can you listen, this is important,' Louis says sternly, even as Harry pushes him back onto the bed and climbs over him to settle comfortably on the other side.
'What's it about?' asks Harry lazily, stretching out like a cat and then curling back up again, throwing his limbs sloppily about Louis's own and burying his nose in Louis's neck. They haven't done this in a while, Louis thinks wistfully; it used to be close like this all the time, and then something changed.
'I wanted to apologise,' Louis re-starts, remembering where he'd been.
'No. Don't. My fault,' Harry mumbles into his neck, breath hot and Louis's stomach ties itself up.
'What? No, it wasn't -' Louis starts to protest, but then Harry's rolling away from him and sitting up and frowning. It's weird, Louis thinks, how he looks like he's waking up from something.
'Can we not argue? Not my fault, not your fault, let's leave it at that, yeah? You can treat people however you want, it's none of my business.' Harry starts to bite at the back of his finger, looking down at Louis with soft, droopy eyes he hasn't seen in a long time. It's the only reason he relents.
'Okay. Yeah. But I can't treat you like that, okay? You should remind me of that. Just because I'm tense and in a bad mood, doesn't mean I can take it out on you,' Louis says, more like he's lecturing himself than talking to Harry. He's relieved when Harry's limbs wrap back around him and he can just feel the textured skin of his lips against his neck.
'Can treat me any way you like, Lou,' Harry breathes and Louis tries, desperately hard, not to freeze at that. Tries desperately hard not to think about the connotations which Harry wouldn't - can't - mean.
'I - no,' Louis mutters, strained and wishing he'd brought his phone in with him and maybe he could have called El, hidden in Harry's bathroom for fifteen minutes.
Harry just huffs, though, because he's pretty much asleep. Louis doesn't get to sleep for a while, mostly because his cock's harder than it's been in what might be years.
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It turns out to be easier than he thinks.
He wasn't really trying, or at least not consciously; subconsciously, he probably knew exactly what he was doing all along.
It's the lollies that do it. Harry gets given another bag, when they first arrive in Australia, and almost immediately starts sucking away on them. Except he doesn't suck, thinks Louis, watching him from across the hotel room, while he's meant to be doing an interview and Harry's waiting for his next one to come up. He just holds it in his mouth, thinks Louis, while at the same time saying I'm the messiest, I never clean up after myself (point one to Louis in Australia Innuendo Stakes). Then he remembers when he took the lolly out of Harry's mouth and that look.
'It's amazing, I love Australia,' he says, smiling confidently at the middle-aged woman in front of him, who's clearly thinking this is what it's all about?, which is fine. Louis couldn't really care less what people think of him, doesn't care if they think he's shit or ugly. They're not everyone and they're not important.
'And what's your favourite thing about the Australian girls?' asks the woman slyly. Louis almost doesn't hear, because he's choking on his own saliva as Harry pulls the lolly from his mouth and his tongue trails out briefly behind it.
'I have a girlfriend,' he says hastily and too loudly, reminding himself as well as the interviewer, who winks and laughs.
'You seem like the faithful type,' she says, sounding sincere, but Louis feels like he's about to burn up with shame. Still, he smiles and nods, and says something like 'I love her,' even though he's starting to think he doesn't mean it.
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Right, so, that's what I have so far and the rest will be up in the next day or so, promise. Please let me know what you think - this is my first 1D fanfiction -blushes-
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especially harry being all cuddly and loose after a wank and louis wanting it back and laksjdlasjkd can't wait for more! :D
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And yay, can't wait!
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this is so fucking good okay??
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