and it’s no joke to me, so can we do it all over again
(originally posted at my ao3)
pairing: harry/louis (one direction)
rating: NC-17
word count: 1611
warnings: pwp, clothing kink
summary: “i want you to fuck me, harry, in your little swim trunks. right here in the middle of the ocean on this tiny boat,” louis whispers filthily into harry’s ear. “think you’re up for it?” (or, louis has a thing for the shorts harry wore during their trip to australia)
notes: inspired by this and this. harry in tiny shorts is my ultimate weakness, apparently. set in a world where a) helicopters, tv crews, and subsequent photographic evidence don’t exist and b) harry and louis were completely alone on their boat trip. title from one direction's over again.
extremely hesitant about posting this one for some reason. feedback, as always, is very much appreciated.
also - here is a link to my new h/l blog on tumblr for anyone who is interested!
Harry wakes abruptly to the feeling of a freezing cold body pressing against his own. He groans and makes a face into the towel he’d been using as a sun visor during his nap as he hears Louis’ manic cackle come from somewhere above him.
“Harry,” Louis says, drawing out the r’s in Harry’s name like he always does when he’s attempting to appear innocent. “You awake?”
“Mmph,” is the only response Harry can muster.
He’s sleepy and warm all over from sunbaking and Louis smooths his hand over Harry’s stomach, toying with the sharp point of his hipbone peeking out through the top of his shorts.
Harry squeaks and tries to shove Louis away, he’s cold and wet and clearly doesn’t understand how to use towels effectively after swimming. Louis is having none of it, plastering himself to Harry’s side and shaking his soggy hair out all over Harry’s chest.
“Stop squirming you weirdo. Nothing wrong with a bit of water,” Louis says.
“A bit of water? Louis, you’re soaking. Where’s your towel?”
“Hey. Have I told you yet how much I love these tiny booty shorts?” Louis asks, completely ignoring Harry’s question. His palm is splayed out, sunkissed against the red material on Harry’s thigh.
“Only a hundred times, but - what? They’re not booty shorts, Lou. They’re board shorts. For swimming ‘n stuff,” Harry says.
Louis laughs and lifts the towel on Harry’s face so that he can lie underneath it as well, pressing a kiss to the grumpy frown on Harry’s lips. “They’re so small they may as well be,” he points out.
Harry mutters something under his breath but his complaints are cut short when he feels Louis’ hand sneak under his waistband and tease the base of his cock.
“’m not saying it’s a bad thing. The opposite, in fact. I really like them,” Louis says quietly, as though it’s still a secret. As though he hasn’t been telling Harry every day since they arrived in Australia.
With an eyebrow raised, Harry turns to Louis and receives nothing but a smirk and a quick kiss, as well as a hand slowly moving down his thickening prick. Louis hums happily and it echoes under their shared towel.
Louis sits up a little so he can rub the thumb of one hand against Harry’s most sensitive nipple - his upper left - while his other is still working Harry’s cock slowly.
Harry’s bucks up into Louis’ fist, impatient after only a few minutes, but Louis turns his head to capture Harry’s lips in a full-on snog to divert his attention. Harry smiles into it straight away and brings his hands up to pet Louis’ still-wet hair.
Their mouths leave each other briefly as Louis throws the towel off their heads and bends down to suck Harry’s hardened nipple between his teeth. He bites down, just enough pressure to make Harry gasp and tighten his grip in Louis’ hair.
As his free hand explores the three other nipples on Harry’s chest he feels a droplet of precome dribble out from the head of Harry’s dick. Harry immediately cries out and pulls Louis back in to kiss him, thrusting into his hand eagerly.
“Hang on, I want to, where’s the - where’s our bag?” Louis asks between heated kisses.
Harry opens his eyes and blinks dazedly a few times before he says, “er, near the cabin stairs, I think.”
Louis pushes himself off Harry’s chest and waddles, his swim shorts now halfway down his thighs, towards the cabin. Harry would laugh at the sight if he weren’t so turned on by Louis’ ass, his tanned skin, the wet hair sticking to the back of his neck messily.
Harry strokes his own cock lazily at the sight, pushing back his foreskin and teasing the head while he waits for Louis to return with lube and condoms.
He pictures Louis’ hips and his thighs. His arms, his stomach; warm and soft from the sun and sand that’s surrounded them during their holiday.
“Oh, no, don’t you dare,” Louis says, snapping Harry out of his thoughts as soon as he’s back and realizes that Harry’s tying to kick off his pants. “The booty shorts stay on.”
Harry huffs and rolls his eyes but complies as Louis straddles his hips.
“I want you to fuck me, Harry, in your little swim trunks. Right here in the middle of the ocean on this tiny boat,” Louis whispers filthily into Harry’s ear. “Think you’re up for it?”
In response, Harry flips them over and grinds his hips against Louis’ roughly, reaching for the bottle of lube and flipping the lid open. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget about my stupid pants,” he says, kissing Louis firmly on the mouth, once, before pressing his first slick finger against Louis’ rim.
Louis’ eyes flutter shut at Harry’s words and his hands, spreading his legs open as best he can while his board shorts are still around his knees. “I don’t think that’s possible but - uh - please, babe.”
Harry slowly works his way up to three fingers, preparing Louis for his cock, while peppering kisses down Louis’ chest as a distraction. He sucks a dark bruise into the soft skin of Louis’ stomach, feels the muscles underneath his lips tense up with pleasure.
He tongues at the head of Louis’ cock then, tiny licks to bring Louis to full hardness. Louis sucks in a deep breath and tries to open his legs further for Harry but is still constricted frustratingly by his shorts. Harry growls, rips them off in one movement, and throws them somewhere along the boat’s deck, not caring where they land.
He’d have no complaints if they flew overboard and Louis had to walk around completely naked for the rest of the day, if he’s completely honest.
Louis grins down at him, a full-blown cheesy smile and Harry realizes he’d said his last thought out loud. He blushes moves to press his nose against the underside of Louis’ dick so he can mouth at his balls and watch the way his fingers are fucking in and out of Louis’ hole.
“Harry,” Louis whines, “please, please, c’mon.”
He shoves his hips impatiently against Harry’s fingers and face, making tiny huffing sounds as he watches Harry’s curls move between his thighs.
Harry smirks and presses one last kiss to Louis’ cock before he finally, finally lets up. He moves back up Louis’ body and fucks into him, teasing little rolls of his hips as he mouths at the salty wet skin of Louis’ neck.
“Lou,” Harry grunts. He’s got his arms braced either side of Louis’ face, stomach pressing against Louis’ leaking cock as he moves. “Lift up your-“ he breaks off to swear and drop his face down against Louis’ neck, before grabbing Louis’ thigh and placing it against his own hip.
It changes the angle just so, and Louis throws his head back and shouts a mess of expletives with the occasional yes, or Harry, tied in now that the head of Harry’s cock is pushing into him perfectly.
Harry lifts his head so he can kiss Louis but they end up breathing heavily into each others mouths and grinning stupidly instead. Louis grabs Harry by the backs of his thighs - around the bunched up red material of the shorts that started it all - encouraging him to fuck deeper and faster.
Louis is so tight and hot, overwhelming when paired with his still-cold skin from the water, and Harry can barely stand it.
He quickly fixes a steady rhythm, knowing he won’t be able to last much longer at this angle, with Louis splayed out so deliciously underneath him. They don’t always fuck hard and fast, but when they do Harry knows just what pace to set to make Louis produce the filthiest sounds.
Right on cue, Louis bites his lip and moans, dragging his nails up and down Harry’s thighs before gripping his ass and lifting his own legs higher against Harry’s waist.
Louis keeps up a constant stream of breathy sighs and dirty encouragement, knowing Harry’s close and loves it when Louis is vocal about what he wants.
It’s always the noises that do it, in the end, pushing Harry over the edge a few minutes later until he’s coming with a shout and tightened grip around Louis’ thigh.
He falls back into Louis neck and tries to catch his breath as Louis tightens himself up (deliberately, teasingly) against Harry’s softening dick.
As soon as Harry’s pulled out and discarded the used condom, Louis flips them over once again and sits backwards on Harry’s stomach. He jerks himself off roughly, and not four strokes later he’s coming all over the red material of Harry’s pants with the most satisfied sounding noise Harry thinks he’s ever heard.
Louis turns himself around and grins lazily atop Harry’s chest, completely pleased with himself.
“Wanna go for a swim?” he asks a second later, still somehow as full of energy as ever.
Harry narrows his eyes and collapses back on the deck with an overdramatic sigh.
“Come on, you’ve got a little something on your swim trunks,” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s hands and pulling him upright. “Better go wash it off. With water. In the ocean. I mean swimming, if you didn’t get that already.”
“I got it, Lou,” Harry sighs. “Very clever.”
Louis winks at him and heads for the ladder at the stern of the boat, still pants-less after Harry had removed them earlier. Harry laughs and quickly sheds his own come stained shorts before jumping in the water besides Louis, completely naked and wildly happy.
pairing: harry/louis (one direction)
rating: NC-17
word count: 1611
warnings: pwp, clothing kink
summary: “i want you to fuck me, harry, in your little swim trunks. right here in the middle of the ocean on this tiny boat,” louis whispers filthily into harry’s ear. “think you’re up for it?” (or, louis has a thing for the shorts harry wore during their trip to australia)
notes: inspired by this and this. harry in tiny shorts is my ultimate weakness, apparently. set in a world where a) helicopters, tv crews, and subsequent photographic evidence don’t exist and b) harry and louis were completely alone on their boat trip. title from one direction's over again.
extremely hesitant about posting this one for some reason. feedback, as always, is very much appreciated.
also - here is a link to my new h/l blog on tumblr for anyone who is interested!
Harry wakes abruptly to the feeling of a freezing cold body pressing against his own. He groans and makes a face into the towel he’d been using as a sun visor during his nap as he hears Louis’ manic cackle come from somewhere above him.
“Harry,” Louis says, drawing out the r’s in Harry’s name like he always does when he’s attempting to appear innocent. “You awake?”
“Mmph,” is the only response Harry can muster.
He’s sleepy and warm all over from sunbaking and Louis smooths his hand over Harry’s stomach, toying with the sharp point of his hipbone peeking out through the top of his shorts.
Harry squeaks and tries to shove Louis away, he’s cold and wet and clearly doesn’t understand how to use towels effectively after swimming. Louis is having none of it, plastering himself to Harry’s side and shaking his soggy hair out all over Harry’s chest.
“Stop squirming you weirdo. Nothing wrong with a bit of water,” Louis says.
“A bit of water? Louis, you’re soaking. Where’s your towel?”
“Hey. Have I told you yet how much I love these tiny booty shorts?” Louis asks, completely ignoring Harry’s question. His palm is splayed out, sunkissed against the red material on Harry’s thigh.
“Only a hundred times, but - what? They’re not booty shorts, Lou. They’re board shorts. For swimming ‘n stuff,” Harry says.
Louis laughs and lifts the towel on Harry’s face so that he can lie underneath it as well, pressing a kiss to the grumpy frown on Harry’s lips. “They’re so small they may as well be,” he points out.
Harry mutters something under his breath but his complaints are cut short when he feels Louis’ hand sneak under his waistband and tease the base of his cock.
“’m not saying it’s a bad thing. The opposite, in fact. I really like them,” Louis says quietly, as though it’s still a secret. As though he hasn’t been telling Harry every day since they arrived in Australia.
With an eyebrow raised, Harry turns to Louis and receives nothing but a smirk and a quick kiss, as well as a hand slowly moving down his thickening prick. Louis hums happily and it echoes under their shared towel.
Louis sits up a little so he can rub the thumb of one hand against Harry’s most sensitive nipple - his upper left - while his other is still working Harry’s cock slowly.
Harry’s bucks up into Louis’ fist, impatient after only a few minutes, but Louis turns his head to capture Harry’s lips in a full-on snog to divert his attention. Harry smiles into it straight away and brings his hands up to pet Louis’ still-wet hair.
Their mouths leave each other briefly as Louis throws the towel off their heads and bends down to suck Harry’s hardened nipple between his teeth. He bites down, just enough pressure to make Harry gasp and tighten his grip in Louis’ hair.
As his free hand explores the three other nipples on Harry’s chest he feels a droplet of precome dribble out from the head of Harry’s dick. Harry immediately cries out and pulls Louis back in to kiss him, thrusting into his hand eagerly.
“Hang on, I want to, where’s the - where’s our bag?” Louis asks between heated kisses.
Harry opens his eyes and blinks dazedly a few times before he says, “er, near the cabin stairs, I think.”
Louis pushes himself off Harry’s chest and waddles, his swim shorts now halfway down his thighs, towards the cabin. Harry would laugh at the sight if he weren’t so turned on by Louis’ ass, his tanned skin, the wet hair sticking to the back of his neck messily.
Harry strokes his own cock lazily at the sight, pushing back his foreskin and teasing the head while he waits for Louis to return with lube and condoms.
He pictures Louis’ hips and his thighs. His arms, his stomach; warm and soft from the sun and sand that’s surrounded them during their holiday.
“Oh, no, don’t you dare,” Louis says, snapping Harry out of his thoughts as soon as he’s back and realizes that Harry’s tying to kick off his pants. “The booty shorts stay on.”
Harry huffs and rolls his eyes but complies as Louis straddles his hips.
“I want you to fuck me, Harry, in your little swim trunks. Right here in the middle of the ocean on this tiny boat,” Louis whispers filthily into Harry’s ear. “Think you’re up for it?”
In response, Harry flips them over and grinds his hips against Louis’ roughly, reaching for the bottle of lube and flipping the lid open. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget about my stupid pants,” he says, kissing Louis firmly on the mouth, once, before pressing his first slick finger against Louis’ rim.
Louis’ eyes flutter shut at Harry’s words and his hands, spreading his legs open as best he can while his board shorts are still around his knees. “I don’t think that’s possible but - uh - please, babe.”
Harry slowly works his way up to three fingers, preparing Louis for his cock, while peppering kisses down Louis’ chest as a distraction. He sucks a dark bruise into the soft skin of Louis’ stomach, feels the muscles underneath his lips tense up with pleasure.
He tongues at the head of Louis’ cock then, tiny licks to bring Louis to full hardness. Louis sucks in a deep breath and tries to open his legs further for Harry but is still constricted frustratingly by his shorts. Harry growls, rips them off in one movement, and throws them somewhere along the boat’s deck, not caring where they land.
He’d have no complaints if they flew overboard and Louis had to walk around completely naked for the rest of the day, if he’s completely honest.
Louis grins down at him, a full-blown cheesy smile and Harry realizes he’d said his last thought out loud. He blushes moves to press his nose against the underside of Louis’ dick so he can mouth at his balls and watch the way his fingers are fucking in and out of Louis’ hole.
“Harry,” Louis whines, “please, please, c’mon.”
He shoves his hips impatiently against Harry’s fingers and face, making tiny huffing sounds as he watches Harry’s curls move between his thighs.
Harry smirks and presses one last kiss to Louis’ cock before he finally, finally lets up. He moves back up Louis’ body and fucks into him, teasing little rolls of his hips as he mouths at the salty wet skin of Louis’ neck.
“Lou,” Harry grunts. He’s got his arms braced either side of Louis’ face, stomach pressing against Louis’ leaking cock as he moves. “Lift up your-“ he breaks off to swear and drop his face down against Louis’ neck, before grabbing Louis’ thigh and placing it against his own hip.
It changes the angle just so, and Louis throws his head back and shouts a mess of expletives with the occasional yes, or Harry, tied in now that the head of Harry’s cock is pushing into him perfectly.
Harry lifts his head so he can kiss Louis but they end up breathing heavily into each others mouths and grinning stupidly instead. Louis grabs Harry by the backs of his thighs - around the bunched up red material of the shorts that started it all - encouraging him to fuck deeper and faster.
Louis is so tight and hot, overwhelming when paired with his still-cold skin from the water, and Harry can barely stand it.
He quickly fixes a steady rhythm, knowing he won’t be able to last much longer at this angle, with Louis splayed out so deliciously underneath him. They don’t always fuck hard and fast, but when they do Harry knows just what pace to set to make Louis produce the filthiest sounds.
Right on cue, Louis bites his lip and moans, dragging his nails up and down Harry’s thighs before gripping his ass and lifting his own legs higher against Harry’s waist.
Louis keeps up a constant stream of breathy sighs and dirty encouragement, knowing Harry’s close and loves it when Louis is vocal about what he wants.
It’s always the noises that do it, in the end, pushing Harry over the edge a few minutes later until he’s coming with a shout and tightened grip around Louis’ thigh.
He falls back into Louis neck and tries to catch his breath as Louis tightens himself up (deliberately, teasingly) against Harry’s softening dick.
As soon as Harry’s pulled out and discarded the used condom, Louis flips them over once again and sits backwards on Harry’s stomach. He jerks himself off roughly, and not four strokes later he’s coming all over the red material of Harry’s pants with the most satisfied sounding noise Harry thinks he’s ever heard.
Louis turns himself around and grins lazily atop Harry’s chest, completely pleased with himself.
“Wanna go for a swim?” he asks a second later, still somehow as full of energy as ever.
Harry narrows his eyes and collapses back on the deck with an overdramatic sigh.
“Come on, you’ve got a little something on your swim trunks,” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s hands and pulling him upright. “Better go wash it off. With water. In the ocean. I mean swimming, if you didn’t get that already.”
“I got it, Lou,” Harry sighs. “Very clever.”
Louis winks at him and heads for the ladder at the stern of the boat, still pants-less after Harry had removed them earlier. Harry laughs and quickly sheds his own come stained shorts before jumping in the water besides Louis, completely naked and wildly happy.