To Light Up Your Eyes - 1D: Harry/Louis - 1/1
Title: To Light Up Your Eyes
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Rating: NC-17 - swearing and sexually explicit situations
Word Count: ~4,900
Summary: Harry whisks Louis away for their weekend off - ie. random ball of PWP fluff.
Disclaimer: This is not true, made up and not meant to offend. The beauty of fiction.
A/N: This is rough as hell (the quality). One minute I was watching my Resident Evil: Extinction DVD, saw post-apocalyptic Las Vegas and that led to this? WTF, brain. I have enough to be getting on with! Title from Placebo's For What Its Worth because I'm listening to it now. Comments are always love. <3
Louis hasn’t been able to believe his eyes. Not when Harry told him to pack a suitcase but not said where they were going, not when they’d arrived at the airport and he’d found out and certainly not now that they were standing in the penthouse suite of a top hotel - classy as well as tens of storeys high - in -
“I can’t believe I’m in Vegas,”
Harry turns around from the large window stretched across the wall at the other side of the room and laughs fondly at Louis stood still in the middle of all the overblown decadence. “So you’ve said for at least the tenth time already.”
Louis puts his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckles that peek out from the slightly too long sleeves of his jumper and his eyes dance around the open plan rooms with awed happiness. “Sorry, I just - I’m - well,” he sighs eventually, “I think I’m speechless.”
“I knew I should’ve filmed this.” Harry grins, striding over to pull him into a loose embrace, “But I honestly didn’t expect you to be this...it’s just a hotel room for the weekend,”
“Yeah! In Vegas!” Then Louis’ expression slips from excited to sober and his voice is quiet as he says, “Seriously, Haz. This must’ve cost you a fortune.”
Harry shrugs one shoulder, too content to move and really it was no hardship to spend money on the one person he loves - romantically - above all else, “I’ve been saving.”
“Oh,” Louis raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the hands supporting his spine, “flying me out here, to a great hotel, saving up like a good boy...you really are trying for a shag, eh?”
“Hmm,” he murmurs with a smirk, tightening his grip, “it would be a bonus...but first, there should be - ”
“ - Room service!” a voice interrupts at the door down the little hall.
Louis’ mouth drops open, “Where are those strings? Are you sure these people aren’t puppets? This is too good to be true, it really is!”
Harry goes to answer, but Louis’ soon giggling and following him to the door, trying to peek under his t-shirt in an elaborate search to find just where those ‘strings’ reside. Of course, he finds nothing and before Harry reaches for the door handle, he grabs Louis’ wayward fingers in his and turns to him with another easy smile, “It’s called preparation, babe.”
“You,” Louis says, unashamedly carrying on their conversation as a staff member wheels in whatever Harry thought to order for them both, “you’re so...so sneaky!”
“Well I’ve been called worse,”
“Really?” he blinks, instantly alert, “By who?”
Harry laughs, brushing away his quip and the unnecessary concern, “No one, Lou. Relax, I was kidding.”
He falls quiet, staring and then giving into the temptation to run his fingertips lightly along the tight, silky upholstery of the chairs in the circular living area as he waits and his eyes roam up the small set of steps to the biggest bed he’s no doubt ever seen. As it’s such a focal point, there’s no denying that Harry was obviously hoping for some kind of pay off but after the day he’s had Louis’ completely alright with that.
He watches Harry tip for the room service then seems to talk to the guy for a moment, but he’s apparently been careful enough to lead him towards the door so Louis can’t hear their exchange. A curious soul, that nags at Louis slightly but he’s pretty sure it’d never be anything bad so he reluctantly lets it slide and tells himself that if Harry wished for him to know something then he’d tell him whenever he was ready. The fact that Harry seems to be good at keeping (harmless) secrets only serves to make more excitement and anticipation build in Louis’ head. After all, he kept everything that he's seen a secret. Packing a suitcase without knowing where he was flying to was surreal after so many laborious flights with the rest of the boys. Arriving in Las Vegas, it hit Louis yet again. Harry really did know him. To somebody else, it might’ve looked cheerfully tacky taking your boyfriend on a weekend to a place famed for its rowdy tourists and glamorous lifestyles, but it had actually been a nod to a conversation Louis and the other boys had had many months prior.
They’d already been in Australia for their next mini tour for a few days when they were sat on their tourbus in the baking heat (for four English boys and one even pastier Irish boy) and Louis took to reminiscing about their American adventures. He’d casually mentioned about one day going to Las Vegas when they had some time off from work. It seems that day, that weekend, had come by a push from his thoughtful boyfriend. Sweet really.
“So,” Harry says by way of capturing Louis' faraway attention again, “I think we should see what’s under here.”
By the tilt of his mouth, Louis knows that Harry is very much clued in as to what is underneath the silver lid but he encourages him with a nod anyway. He steps around the nearest armchair and towards the glass coffee table as Harry lifts the lid with a flourish. There’s a beat of silence and then loud laughter from Louis, his head thrown back in true amusement.
“Oh my god,” he wheezes, reaching for Harry’s wrist to grip and anchor himself, “you had them - I can’t believe - so basically you had them make the only dish I can make from scratch?”
“Yep. Although,” Harry frowns slightly, “don’t sell yourself short. You can cook. Just not...like me.”
“Alright, Gordon Ramsay,” Louis pokes him in the chest, “have a bread roll.”
Harry opens his mouth to respond and Louis uses that as his chance to literally shove the food in his face. His lips have to stretch around the bread and Louis quickly looks away and swallows, overcome with a hurricane of affection and desire for the one person he never expected to meet, never mind fall in love with. But then he knows he has to applaud Harry’s efforts once more and their gazes lock as Harry is taking the bread out of his mouth and giggling like Louis’ the funniest person in the world. Louis looks between the food artfully laid out on the plate (he’ll grudgingly admit that it looks even better than his version) and Harry’s face, angles and plains popping up when they weren’t there half a year ago. He thinks he looks even more handsome than before and he curls into his side, palm flat on Harry’s chest as he looks up just an inch so their eyes find each other perfectly.
“I can’t decide whether this,” he cocks a hip at the food, “is hilarious or strangely romantic,”
“Please say romantic, please say romantic,” Harry jokingly chants against his hair.
Louis’ fist catches on the material underneath his hand, “Okay. Romantic it is.”
---
After food (for the record, his efforts back home tasted just as good, thank you very much) and sex and a nap, you could say that Louis’ a happy man. This weekend has been everything he loves all rolled into one neat package and they haven’t even ventured outside yet. Judging by the fact that they could only manage one round of sex before cuddling up together for a while, Louis’ not sure he will or wants to see what else Vegas as to offer. Sure, it rather defeats the purpose of coming out here but he suspects that Harry was thinking the same as him deep down - a place in the Nevada desert in a hotel room that was a surprise to Louis, where they can be alone and do whatever they like for forty eight blissful hours before its back to the much loved reality of their day jobs. He thinks of Liam and Niall and Zayn, questioning whether they knew any of this too and who he’ll have to playfully throttle if they did.
“I can hear you thinking from all the way over there,” a familiar voice rumbles against his temple, the sound rough with sleep. “In bed.”
Louis doesn’t jump because he knows Harry would’ve woken up sooner or later and immediately looked for him. Instead, he snorts at the blindingly obvious addition, considering he’s standing feet away from the aforementioned bed and in front of the large windows to survey the darkened city below. They’re so high up and it feels exhilarating, liberating. Like no one will find out where they are and what they’re doing and that sounds absolutely perfect. He can say he’s content as Harry wraps his arms around him from behind and presses his face momentarily to his neck, feeling each other’s natural warmth despite Louis standing in his boxers and Harry...
“I’m never going to train you out of the naked thing, am I?” Louis sighs dramatically, twisting his neck a little to catch Harry’s expression.
“Nah,” he shakes his head, curls soft and ticklish, “you wouldn’t want to do that.”
Louis bites his lip and closes his eyes as he feels their breathing kick up in sync and Harry’s naked body flush against the line of his. “Harry?”
“Yes...?”
“Is this your way of saying you’re ready for round two?”
Harry drops a kiss behind his ear and his arms tighten across his hips as Louis feels the unmistakable shape of his erection and his own cock responds.
“Give the boy a gold star,” he laughs low into Louis’ still damp skin, “or, better yet, give him a good seeing to.”
“Where’s the romance gone, Styles?” Louis cries in pretend shock.
He tries to face Harry, but a quiet gasp that is very much not pretend tumbles from his lax mouth as he is pushed forwards so that he has to brace his forearms on the glass of the window.
“He’s on a break.” Louis shivers as lips graze the back of his neck and a sixth sense tells him that Harry’s smiling, “He’ll be back. Just think of this side of me as his naughty twin.”
Louis wants to say I can’t believe you’re personifying romance or you’re practically talking in third person, you idiot (fondly) but all that he can manage is a heartfelt, breathy, “Fuck.”
“Excellent idea, Lou,” he whispers in teasing approval, “Wish I’d thought of that myself.”
“I hate you,” Louis groans, as they shift from cute chat to something far more charged with their usual unsubtle sexual tension.
“I know you do.” Harry grins, patting his hip and Louis wants to growl in frustration at that, at how he’s got so little control, but Harry keeps talking, “You hate me so much that you’re getting hard and you’re still slick from the first time. I bet I could slide two fingers into you right now and your body wouldn’t even...” he trails off briefly, pulling Louis’ underwear down to bunch around his thighs and expose his arse. Indeed, two fingers gently circle him. “...protest.”
It takes a second for Louis to process that Harry’s belatedly finishing his sentence, but it’s a second too long as he feels Harry’s fingers effortlessly glide into him and then out again, leaving him gasping at the sensation of pressure and quick release.
“But I’m not going to do that.” Harry says and Louis moans helplessly, mind spinning, instead of being able to tell him to quit whispering, “That’s for later too. I have a plan.”
It’s when he tries to tug Louis’ boxers all the way off that Louis comes to his senses and quickly grasps a fistful of curls to get Harry to stay put.
“We can’t,” he pants, “Not here, not like this. Bed. Now. Please.”
“No.”
“What?!” Despite his shock, a thrill runs down his spine and leaves him squirming against Harry’s front.
“It’s alright.” Harry tucks his face into Louis’ neck, thumbs smoothing his hipbones to calm him, “No one can see us up here. Well, not unless they’ve got a helicopter and happen to be passing - ”
“Not helping!” Louis interrupts, taking some satisfaction from the whoosh of breath from Harry as he elbows him in the stomach. Then he pauses and understands. “That was what you were talking about to that guy earlier? ‘Hey, I want to have sex with my boyfriend against the window later on. Think anyone will see?’?”
“Not like that.” he scoffs, hugging Louis to him to ease the sudden embarrassed tension in his limbs, “All I asked is if he knew how high up we were.”
“And? What was his answer?”
A grin spreads across Harry’s mouth, “Very high.” He sighs and starts massaging Louis’ shoulders, “I’ll put naughty twin back in his naughty box if you want me to.”
“I...I don’t know.” he replies honestly, still feeling the (ridiculous) paranoia of being recognised and caught. There are already enough rumours as it is.
“Lou, its fine.” he presses a kiss to Louis’ hair and squeezes his shoulders before letting go, “Just do me a favour?”
“What?”
“Stay here for a second.”
Although his arse is still half exposed, Louis silently nods his compliance because his dick remains hidden and snug and Harry has let him believe that he’ll only be a second.
He really should learn not to trust Harry when he’s in seduction mode.
Thirty seconds pass and Louis still standing by the window and his arms are braced on the glass, but now his forehead is resting on the point where his wrist bones intersect and no matter how many times he tells his body to breathe normally, he notices that his breaths sometimes hitch, like he knows he’s being kept waiting on purpose. Suddenly, he can’t take the suspense anymore and he risks a glance over his shoulder. It feels like his vital organs rattle around in a jumble at what he sees. Harry is stood at farthest side of the bed, his hand clamped around his cock and his eyes washing up and down Louis’ spine, drinking in the sight of his skin newly tanned from their tour in warmer climes, his nearly naked form and his arse almost tantalisingly on show.
“Fuck, Lou,” he gasps, “You’re...you’re beautiful.”
“Harry,” he replies and he means it to sound like he’s modestly pushing the high compliment aside, but in reality it’s only going to draw Harry near.
The carpet maybe plush and probably expensive, but Louis still hears the thud of footsteps (or maybe it’s his heartbeat) as Harry rejoins him and gently touches the small of his back. The need quickly spirals out of control and Louis’ reaching for the back of Harry’s neck to tug him as close as he can get before he can question himself.
“Harry, please,” he whines, not sure what he’s asking for.
That’s no problem as Harry seems to know anyway.
“Shh, I’m on a roll here. You’re so gorgeous,” he breathes, hooking his whole palms into the hips of Louis’ boxers and shoving them down until, this time, Louis’ cock springs free. He doesn’t know a man that doesn’t enjoy some ego stroking, but this is almost too much. He’s wise to the fact that it’s Harry’s way of simultaneously soothing and turning him on and he can’t quite get the words out to tell him to stop. He doesn’t want him to. “I love how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you really laugh or throw your head back when you really feel it or that you hide your mouth when you think you’re not supposed to find something funny. I love how slight of frame you are but so, so strong, strong enough to overpower me if you wanted to. I love how quiet you are until you work out that the other person is worth showing all your quirks to. I love how you act like you don’t give a shit what people say, but you let me pick up the pieces when we’re alone. I love how much you trust me, like right now.”
It’s only then that Louis’ aware that Harry’s somehow extricated himself from his hand and his voice sounds like it’s languishing somewhere at his knees. He’d think that Harry was about to suck his cock if he wasn’t facing the other...oh. A flash of heat spikes all over Louis’ body at the same time that Harry’s hot tongue licks from his upper thigh to across the slope of his arse and ends with a gentle sink of his teeth into the flesh. Big hands at his knees pull him away from the window slightly and Louis bends so that his own don’t lose contact with the glass that’s quite frankly keeping him upright. Harry knows this, of course he does, and Louis is unaware of his smile as he contorts into a position which allows Harry to properly explore.
“I love everything about you,” he whispers, “everything that matters, but Christ, Lou. Your body drives me crazy.”
Louis would repay the sentiment but he’s trading in garbled moans and wound up keens so he thinks that’ll have to do. Especially when Harry widens his jaw and laps at his skin as a hand comes round to his cock as well, to stroke as he quickly tugs on his own. If Louis tips his head down low enough between his arms, he can see the edges of Harry’s knees and imagine the tendons in his newly toned bicep working overtime. The thought of Harry pleasuring himself, getting off on what he’s doing to Louis, makes Louis’ stomach swoop and his groin sweetly ache.
“Haz,” he groans when the fingers around his cock disappear and flit towards his hole, “babe - no, I’m gonna - ”
All sensations leave him and he sways on the spot for a split second, trying to catch his bearings, until Harry spins him around and shoves him into the glass. Louis’ knees are trapped because his boxers are still halfway down his legs, so he hurriedly kicks them off with the help of his scrabbling feet as Harry’s hands lift him from his thighs. Their mouths come together, pursed to avoid the clash of teeth, then opening for tongues to tangle and breaths to mingle. Louis pulls at Harry’s hair as they come away from the window at last, stumbling and bouncing onto the bed, barely breaking contact.
“Fuck me,” Louis tips his head back, baring the sweaty column of his throat momentarily as his hands dig into bare, flexing shoulders, “Please, Harry, fuck me,”
He dimly hears through the rush of blood past his ears that things clatter to the floor as Harry blindly tries to find what he’s looking for with a flailing arm whilst remaining locked between Louis’ legs. Eventually, when they’re still just rutting against one another, Louis loosens his hold and Harry sits on his heels and twists to look and rummage. Harry leans back and Louis follows forward once he sees how the arm is turned out, displaying carefully placed ink. Harry sucks in a surprised breath when Louis fixes his teeth to the centre of the star and bites and bites until he can feel the pulse of a mark beginning to form. Harry uses that arm and curls it around Louis’ neck before getting to his knees and pushing Louis to lay flat again. They kiss deeply with Harry’s weight settled on top of him and a deft hand flicking the lube open. They part and Harry brings the condom to his teeth to rip the foil, but Louis grabs his hand and tosses it away, somewhere further down the sheets.
“Just you.”
They’re breathless and sweating so much that Harry’s skin slides along Louis’ as his limbs jerk in response to those words and then Louis is letting his thighs rest open and is pulling Harry to lie over him hard until he guides his newly slickened dick into him for the second time that night. It feels to Louis like he’s somehow forgotten how well Harry fits inside him because when he starts to drive into him a little faster it’s so intense.
Harry closes that extra inch between them, his hips circling, to steal a quick kiss. “Come on; wanna hear you moan for me.”
Louis grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, clinging to the body moving above him, “Can’t - too much,”
“You can.” He punctuates that certain statement by wriggling his hands between the bed and Louis’ back, angling his hips up slightly and instead of a moan he gets a strangled cry. “Good?”
“Oh yeah,” Louis nods frantically, staring up at Harry with wide eyes and ruffled hair, “so good, just right - oh!”
He dissolves into breathiness and Harry’s mouth is there waiting for him to claim. They continue to kiss as their orgasms build and Louis wishes he could get a hand around his leaking dick but Harry’s body is stuck to him from collarbone to hip and that makes it virtually impossible, so he simply has to settle for the drag of Harry’s stomach. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just not quite enough to make him come and maybe Harry knows that, maybe he doesn’t, its maddening nonetheless.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
“I should - oh - I should think so,” Louis manages to quip with a breathless giggle as he blinks furiously and tries to stop his eyes from rolling back. He doesn’t want to miss a single second more of this, not when Harry’s rhythm is starting to falter. “I’m sweating like...a sweaty thing,”
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” Harry gasps into his mouth with a tilt of his head and pushing his tongue forward for them to meet. “and - ” Louis tenses his thighs against his waist, squeezing every time a thrust feels especially pleasurable, “yeah, when you do that - that’s just fucking sexy. You’re fucking sexy, with your hair and your eyes and your stupid cheekbones,”
“Stupid - ?”
“I love you,” Harry interrupts Louis' disbelief, rolling his hips into him and not retreating, but letting the moment hang.
“Oh fuck,” Louis almost sighs, defeated, as the quick change of a nudge rather than a shove into him and those three little words send his heart and his cock tripping over the edge.
His back arches of its own accord and his mouth is slack as, eyes closed, he coats his and Harry’s stomachs with come. There’s a hitch of breath against where Harry is hovering over him motionlessly and Louis feels distinctly stickier than before. Once he’s ceased trembling like jelly, Harry goes to move but all Louis wants him to do is withdraw from his body and stay close.
“For the record,” he says as Harry’s curls tickle his nose from where he’s got an arm tight around his neck and Harry’s face again tucked into his neck, “I love you back.”
“Hmm,” Harry murmurs, breaking Louis’ hold to sit up with a smile that shows his dimples and heavy lids, “good to know.”
He disappears into the bathroom despite Louis’ protests, so Louis cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders to get out any of the kinks from pleasurable tension before they crawl under the (okay, damp and slightly ruined) sheets. He’s just putting his arm behind his head and lifting one knee with his foot flat on the bed in a comfortable half sprawl when he hears Harry’s voice.
“Oh god - ”
But Louis doesn’t let him finish, talking to the ceiling and not even looking to see Harry’s wild eyed expression, “I know, I should probably shower, but I’m too happy to just lie here in Vegas with my boyfriend who tells me he loves me during fucking great sex and - ”
“No,” Harry says, and eyes Louis didn’t know he had closed in satisfaction pop open at the firm, slightly strained tone, “no showering. I want you again.”
“Now?” Louis laughs incredulously, leaning up on his elbows and staring at Harry with twinkly eyes when he comes to loom over him at the side of the bed, “I’d love to, babe, but I don’t think my recovery time is that quick. Not sure anyone’s is, to be honest.”
Harry licks his lips and regardless of coming two seconds ago or two hours ago, Louis will always find that hypnotising and irresistible, “Doesn’t matter.”
“...What?”
Louis looks at him warily now, at how his green eyes are fixed to the sweat and come streaked across his body and the shadows of the night hitting the newly defined angles of his face. When Harry slowly lies on his side next to him, he sees that his pupils are already (or maybe still) dilated and his slightly parted mouth means his lips get dry and he has to keep licking them.
“It doesn’t matter.” he breathes quietly and he puts a warm hand to Louis’ cheek before kissing him.
Louis still has little idea what he’s on about, so it really is a shock when fingers trail from his face to broadly flatten as a palm down the length of his torso that smoothes through the come drying on his skin and presses into his inner thighs, signalling for them to widen more.
Louis wrenches his lips from Harry, turning his head to the side and into the relative cool of the sheets beneath him, “Harry, what - ”
“I’m gonna make you come again,” he finally answers and Louis’ body jolts from an imaginary fall, the kind you usually get just before you sleep, “right now.”
“How - what - I can’t!” he splutters, although his cock does twitch like the traitor it is.
Using his forearm and his side position to balance himself, Harry rubs his thumb against Louis’ damp temple and smiles at him with such dirty determination that Louis feels whatever is holding him back unlock and he only mutters a token “can’t” as Harry’s other hand slides between his spread legs. Louis gasps for quickly stolen breath and moans like he’s wounded as fingers slip through the wet of his hole and straight into the still welcoming heat of his body to make him squirm. It reminds him of the few times he’s not had Harry with him and as put fingers inside himself and tugged at his cock to bring himself off. Except he’s not then sticky with lube and come and the length of Harry’s fingers is all the more apparent now that it’s those making him cry out and not his dick.
And cry out he does, his limbs taut in wonderful agony as Harry starts thrusting and wiggling them in and out. He varies the pace and how many fingers until Louis is shuddering next to his forearm and it feels like he settles on three with an offbeat rhythm, pulling out completely then shoving up and Louis is powerless to help the noises from spilling out.
Harry rests his forehead towards the side of Louis’ damp hair and vows, “I’m gonna make you come so hard.”
Louis grits his teeth and fights to stare stubbornly into Harry’s face, even though his eyelashes flutter like demented butterfly wings and any of his grips on Harry’s body is decidedly weak. Harry crooks his fingers, jabs in and rubs his thumb around the slick of his stretched hole and that’s enough to make him shout, his voice so far into husky and wrecked that it’s almost no voice at all. He comes as hard as his body will allow, clenching around Harry’s fingers with all the energy he has left and painting his stomach with lazier, exhausted streaks.
“Oh my god, incredible,” Harry mutters, still leaning into Louis as he withdraws carefully and closes that hand around his cock that has since fully awakened.
Louis watches him with liquid limbs as he tries to make himself climax as quickly as he ever remembers him doing, pitching forward slightly for tiny kisses that he lets him take without complaint. Harry’s lips are soft and swollen above his and if Louis had any higher brain function he’d find that he’d probably quite like to lick them over and over, just to see them get redder and redder. As it is, he settles for dividing his looking time between Harry’s face with his little frown of concentration and the hand that was just inside Louis making a fist to pull at his flushed cock.
“You made me come again.” Louis whispers with a tiny smile just as Harry is about to go in for another kiss.
He groans long and loud instead and then his come is dripping over his knuckles and splashing onto the near curve of Louis’ hip.
Once Harry’s returned to the land of the living, Louis sniggers as he wipes his messy palm into the sheets and seemingly doesn’t care if they have housekeeping the next morning. Besides, what do they expect in the penthouse suite with two virile young men who fancy the pants off each other?
Harry hums, pleased, and shuffles closer to Louis to nuzzle underneath his jaw with affection, “In the morning, I’ll suck you off in the shower.”
“More surprises?” he teases ironically, carefully stretching a tired arm around Harry’s shoulders to bring him in, “I could get used to this.”
Thankfully for him, Harry’s true to his word.
fin.
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Rating: NC-17 - swearing and sexually explicit situations
Word Count: ~4,900
Summary: Harry whisks Louis away for their weekend off - ie. random ball of PWP fluff.
Disclaimer: This is not true, made up and not meant to offend. The beauty of fiction.
A/N: This is rough as hell (the quality). One minute I was watching my Resident Evil: Extinction DVD, saw post-apocalyptic Las Vegas and that led to this? WTF, brain. I have enough to be getting on with! Title from Placebo's For What Its Worth because I'm listening to it now. Comments are always love. <3
Louis hasn’t been able to believe his eyes. Not when Harry told him to pack a suitcase but not said where they were going, not when they’d arrived at the airport and he’d found out and certainly not now that they were standing in the penthouse suite of a top hotel - classy as well as tens of storeys high - in -
“I can’t believe I’m in Vegas,”
Harry turns around from the large window stretched across the wall at the other side of the room and laughs fondly at Louis stood still in the middle of all the overblown decadence. “So you’ve said for at least the tenth time already.”
Louis puts his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckles that peek out from the slightly too long sleeves of his jumper and his eyes dance around the open plan rooms with awed happiness. “Sorry, I just - I’m - well,” he sighs eventually, “I think I’m speechless.”
“I knew I should’ve filmed this.” Harry grins, striding over to pull him into a loose embrace, “But I honestly didn’t expect you to be this...it’s just a hotel room for the weekend,”
“Yeah! In Vegas!” Then Louis’ expression slips from excited to sober and his voice is quiet as he says, “Seriously, Haz. This must’ve cost you a fortune.”
Harry shrugs one shoulder, too content to move and really it was no hardship to spend money on the one person he loves - romantically - above all else, “I’ve been saving.”
“Oh,” Louis raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the hands supporting his spine, “flying me out here, to a great hotel, saving up like a good boy...you really are trying for a shag, eh?”
“Hmm,” he murmurs with a smirk, tightening his grip, “it would be a bonus...but first, there should be - ”
“ - Room service!” a voice interrupts at the door down the little hall.
Louis’ mouth drops open, “Where are those strings? Are you sure these people aren’t puppets? This is too good to be true, it really is!”
Harry goes to answer, but Louis’ soon giggling and following him to the door, trying to peek under his t-shirt in an elaborate search to find just where those ‘strings’ reside. Of course, he finds nothing and before Harry reaches for the door handle, he grabs Louis’ wayward fingers in his and turns to him with another easy smile, “It’s called preparation, babe.”
“You,” Louis says, unashamedly carrying on their conversation as a staff member wheels in whatever Harry thought to order for them both, “you’re so...so sneaky!”
“Well I’ve been called worse,”
“Really?” he blinks, instantly alert, “By who?”
Harry laughs, brushing away his quip and the unnecessary concern, “No one, Lou. Relax, I was kidding.”
He falls quiet, staring and then giving into the temptation to run his fingertips lightly along the tight, silky upholstery of the chairs in the circular living area as he waits and his eyes roam up the small set of steps to the biggest bed he’s no doubt ever seen. As it’s such a focal point, there’s no denying that Harry was obviously hoping for some kind of pay off but after the day he’s had Louis’ completely alright with that.
He watches Harry tip for the room service then seems to talk to the guy for a moment, but he’s apparently been careful enough to lead him towards the door so Louis can’t hear their exchange. A curious soul, that nags at Louis slightly but he’s pretty sure it’d never be anything bad so he reluctantly lets it slide and tells himself that if Harry wished for him to know something then he’d tell him whenever he was ready. The fact that Harry seems to be good at keeping (harmless) secrets only serves to make more excitement and anticipation build in Louis’ head. After all, he kept everything that he's seen a secret. Packing a suitcase without knowing where he was flying to was surreal after so many laborious flights with the rest of the boys. Arriving in Las Vegas, it hit Louis yet again. Harry really did know him. To somebody else, it might’ve looked cheerfully tacky taking your boyfriend on a weekend to a place famed for its rowdy tourists and glamorous lifestyles, but it had actually been a nod to a conversation Louis and the other boys had had many months prior.
They’d already been in Australia for their next mini tour for a few days when they were sat on their tourbus in the baking heat (for four English boys and one even pastier Irish boy) and Louis took to reminiscing about their American adventures. He’d casually mentioned about one day going to Las Vegas when they had some time off from work. It seems that day, that weekend, had come by a push from his thoughtful boyfriend. Sweet really.
“So,” Harry says by way of capturing Louis' faraway attention again, “I think we should see what’s under here.”
By the tilt of his mouth, Louis knows that Harry is very much clued in as to what is underneath the silver lid but he encourages him with a nod anyway. He steps around the nearest armchair and towards the glass coffee table as Harry lifts the lid with a flourish. There’s a beat of silence and then loud laughter from Louis, his head thrown back in true amusement.
“Oh my god,” he wheezes, reaching for Harry’s wrist to grip and anchor himself, “you had them - I can’t believe - so basically you had them make the only dish I can make from scratch?”
“Yep. Although,” Harry frowns slightly, “don’t sell yourself short. You can cook. Just not...like me.”
“Alright, Gordon Ramsay,” Louis pokes him in the chest, “have a bread roll.”
Harry opens his mouth to respond and Louis uses that as his chance to literally shove the food in his face. His lips have to stretch around the bread and Louis quickly looks away and swallows, overcome with a hurricane of affection and desire for the one person he never expected to meet, never mind fall in love with. But then he knows he has to applaud Harry’s efforts once more and their gazes lock as Harry is taking the bread out of his mouth and giggling like Louis’ the funniest person in the world. Louis looks between the food artfully laid out on the plate (he’ll grudgingly admit that it looks even better than his version) and Harry’s face, angles and plains popping up when they weren’t there half a year ago. He thinks he looks even more handsome than before and he curls into his side, palm flat on Harry’s chest as he looks up just an inch so their eyes find each other perfectly.
“I can’t decide whether this,” he cocks a hip at the food, “is hilarious or strangely romantic,”
“Please say romantic, please say romantic,” Harry jokingly chants against his hair.
Louis’ fist catches on the material underneath his hand, “Okay. Romantic it is.”
---
After food (for the record, his efforts back home tasted just as good, thank you very much) and sex and a nap, you could say that Louis’ a happy man. This weekend has been everything he loves all rolled into one neat package and they haven’t even ventured outside yet. Judging by the fact that they could only manage one round of sex before cuddling up together for a while, Louis’ not sure he will or wants to see what else Vegas as to offer. Sure, it rather defeats the purpose of coming out here but he suspects that Harry was thinking the same as him deep down - a place in the Nevada desert in a hotel room that was a surprise to Louis, where they can be alone and do whatever they like for forty eight blissful hours before its back to the much loved reality of their day jobs. He thinks of Liam and Niall and Zayn, questioning whether they knew any of this too and who he’ll have to playfully throttle if they did.
“I can hear you thinking from all the way over there,” a familiar voice rumbles against his temple, the sound rough with sleep. “In bed.”
Louis doesn’t jump because he knows Harry would’ve woken up sooner or later and immediately looked for him. Instead, he snorts at the blindingly obvious addition, considering he’s standing feet away from the aforementioned bed and in front of the large windows to survey the darkened city below. They’re so high up and it feels exhilarating, liberating. Like no one will find out where they are and what they’re doing and that sounds absolutely perfect. He can say he’s content as Harry wraps his arms around him from behind and presses his face momentarily to his neck, feeling each other’s natural warmth despite Louis standing in his boxers and Harry...
“I’m never going to train you out of the naked thing, am I?” Louis sighs dramatically, twisting his neck a little to catch Harry’s expression.
“Nah,” he shakes his head, curls soft and ticklish, “you wouldn’t want to do that.”
Louis bites his lip and closes his eyes as he feels their breathing kick up in sync and Harry’s naked body flush against the line of his. “Harry?”
“Yes...?”
“Is this your way of saying you’re ready for round two?”
Harry drops a kiss behind his ear and his arms tighten across his hips as Louis feels the unmistakable shape of his erection and his own cock responds.
“Give the boy a gold star,” he laughs low into Louis’ still damp skin, “or, better yet, give him a good seeing to.”
“Where’s the romance gone, Styles?” Louis cries in pretend shock.
He tries to face Harry, but a quiet gasp that is very much not pretend tumbles from his lax mouth as he is pushed forwards so that he has to brace his forearms on the glass of the window.
“He’s on a break.” Louis shivers as lips graze the back of his neck and a sixth sense tells him that Harry’s smiling, “He’ll be back. Just think of this side of me as his naughty twin.”
Louis wants to say I can’t believe you’re personifying romance or you’re practically talking in third person, you idiot (fondly) but all that he can manage is a heartfelt, breathy, “Fuck.”
“Excellent idea, Lou,” he whispers in teasing approval, “Wish I’d thought of that myself.”
“I hate you,” Louis groans, as they shift from cute chat to something far more charged with their usual unsubtle sexual tension.
“I know you do.” Harry grins, patting his hip and Louis wants to growl in frustration at that, at how he’s got so little control, but Harry keeps talking, “You hate me so much that you’re getting hard and you’re still slick from the first time. I bet I could slide two fingers into you right now and your body wouldn’t even...” he trails off briefly, pulling Louis’ underwear down to bunch around his thighs and expose his arse. Indeed, two fingers gently circle him. “...protest.”
It takes a second for Louis to process that Harry’s belatedly finishing his sentence, but it’s a second too long as he feels Harry’s fingers effortlessly glide into him and then out again, leaving him gasping at the sensation of pressure and quick release.
“But I’m not going to do that.” Harry says and Louis moans helplessly, mind spinning, instead of being able to tell him to quit whispering, “That’s for later too. I have a plan.”
It’s when he tries to tug Louis’ boxers all the way off that Louis comes to his senses and quickly grasps a fistful of curls to get Harry to stay put.
“We can’t,” he pants, “Not here, not like this. Bed. Now. Please.”
“No.”
“What?!” Despite his shock, a thrill runs down his spine and leaves him squirming against Harry’s front.
“It’s alright.” Harry tucks his face into Louis’ neck, thumbs smoothing his hipbones to calm him, “No one can see us up here. Well, not unless they’ve got a helicopter and happen to be passing - ”
“Not helping!” Louis interrupts, taking some satisfaction from the whoosh of breath from Harry as he elbows him in the stomach. Then he pauses and understands. “That was what you were talking about to that guy earlier? ‘Hey, I want to have sex with my boyfriend against the window later on. Think anyone will see?’?”
“Not like that.” he scoffs, hugging Louis to him to ease the sudden embarrassed tension in his limbs, “All I asked is if he knew how high up we were.”
“And? What was his answer?”
A grin spreads across Harry’s mouth, “Very high.” He sighs and starts massaging Louis’ shoulders, “I’ll put naughty twin back in his naughty box if you want me to.”
“I...I don’t know.” he replies honestly, still feeling the (ridiculous) paranoia of being recognised and caught. There are already enough rumours as it is.
“Lou, its fine.” he presses a kiss to Louis’ hair and squeezes his shoulders before letting go, “Just do me a favour?”
“What?”
“Stay here for a second.”
Although his arse is still half exposed, Louis silently nods his compliance because his dick remains hidden and snug and Harry has let him believe that he’ll only be a second.
He really should learn not to trust Harry when he’s in seduction mode.
Thirty seconds pass and Louis still standing by the window and his arms are braced on the glass, but now his forehead is resting on the point where his wrist bones intersect and no matter how many times he tells his body to breathe normally, he notices that his breaths sometimes hitch, like he knows he’s being kept waiting on purpose. Suddenly, he can’t take the suspense anymore and he risks a glance over his shoulder. It feels like his vital organs rattle around in a jumble at what he sees. Harry is stood at farthest side of the bed, his hand clamped around his cock and his eyes washing up and down Louis’ spine, drinking in the sight of his skin newly tanned from their tour in warmer climes, his nearly naked form and his arse almost tantalisingly on show.
“Fuck, Lou,” he gasps, “You’re...you’re beautiful.”
“Harry,” he replies and he means it to sound like he’s modestly pushing the high compliment aside, but in reality it’s only going to draw Harry near.
The carpet maybe plush and probably expensive, but Louis still hears the thud of footsteps (or maybe it’s his heartbeat) as Harry rejoins him and gently touches the small of his back. The need quickly spirals out of control and Louis’ reaching for the back of Harry’s neck to tug him as close as he can get before he can question himself.
“Harry, please,” he whines, not sure what he’s asking for.
That’s no problem as Harry seems to know anyway.
“Shh, I’m on a roll here. You’re so gorgeous,” he breathes, hooking his whole palms into the hips of Louis’ boxers and shoving them down until, this time, Louis’ cock springs free. He doesn’t know a man that doesn’t enjoy some ego stroking, but this is almost too much. He’s wise to the fact that it’s Harry’s way of simultaneously soothing and turning him on and he can’t quite get the words out to tell him to stop. He doesn’t want him to. “I love how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you really laugh or throw your head back when you really feel it or that you hide your mouth when you think you’re not supposed to find something funny. I love how slight of frame you are but so, so strong, strong enough to overpower me if you wanted to. I love how quiet you are until you work out that the other person is worth showing all your quirks to. I love how you act like you don’t give a shit what people say, but you let me pick up the pieces when we’re alone. I love how much you trust me, like right now.”
It’s only then that Louis’ aware that Harry’s somehow extricated himself from his hand and his voice sounds like it’s languishing somewhere at his knees. He’d think that Harry was about to suck his cock if he wasn’t facing the other...oh. A flash of heat spikes all over Louis’ body at the same time that Harry’s hot tongue licks from his upper thigh to across the slope of his arse and ends with a gentle sink of his teeth into the flesh. Big hands at his knees pull him away from the window slightly and Louis bends so that his own don’t lose contact with the glass that’s quite frankly keeping him upright. Harry knows this, of course he does, and Louis is unaware of his smile as he contorts into a position which allows Harry to properly explore.
“I love everything about you,” he whispers, “everything that matters, but Christ, Lou. Your body drives me crazy.”
Louis would repay the sentiment but he’s trading in garbled moans and wound up keens so he thinks that’ll have to do. Especially when Harry widens his jaw and laps at his skin as a hand comes round to his cock as well, to stroke as he quickly tugs on his own. If Louis tips his head down low enough between his arms, he can see the edges of Harry’s knees and imagine the tendons in his newly toned bicep working overtime. The thought of Harry pleasuring himself, getting off on what he’s doing to Louis, makes Louis’ stomach swoop and his groin sweetly ache.
“Haz,” he groans when the fingers around his cock disappear and flit towards his hole, “babe - no, I’m gonna - ”
All sensations leave him and he sways on the spot for a split second, trying to catch his bearings, until Harry spins him around and shoves him into the glass. Louis’ knees are trapped because his boxers are still halfway down his legs, so he hurriedly kicks them off with the help of his scrabbling feet as Harry’s hands lift him from his thighs. Their mouths come together, pursed to avoid the clash of teeth, then opening for tongues to tangle and breaths to mingle. Louis pulls at Harry’s hair as they come away from the window at last, stumbling and bouncing onto the bed, barely breaking contact.
“Fuck me,” Louis tips his head back, baring the sweaty column of his throat momentarily as his hands dig into bare, flexing shoulders, “Please, Harry, fuck me,”
He dimly hears through the rush of blood past his ears that things clatter to the floor as Harry blindly tries to find what he’s looking for with a flailing arm whilst remaining locked between Louis’ legs. Eventually, when they’re still just rutting against one another, Louis loosens his hold and Harry sits on his heels and twists to look and rummage. Harry leans back and Louis follows forward once he sees how the arm is turned out, displaying carefully placed ink. Harry sucks in a surprised breath when Louis fixes his teeth to the centre of the star and bites and bites until he can feel the pulse of a mark beginning to form. Harry uses that arm and curls it around Louis’ neck before getting to his knees and pushing Louis to lay flat again. They kiss deeply with Harry’s weight settled on top of him and a deft hand flicking the lube open. They part and Harry brings the condom to his teeth to rip the foil, but Louis grabs his hand and tosses it away, somewhere further down the sheets.
“Just you.”
They’re breathless and sweating so much that Harry’s skin slides along Louis’ as his limbs jerk in response to those words and then Louis is letting his thighs rest open and is pulling Harry to lie over him hard until he guides his newly slickened dick into him for the second time that night. It feels to Louis like he’s somehow forgotten how well Harry fits inside him because when he starts to drive into him a little faster it’s so intense.
Harry closes that extra inch between them, his hips circling, to steal a quick kiss. “Come on; wanna hear you moan for me.”
Louis grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, clinging to the body moving above him, “Can’t - too much,”
“You can.” He punctuates that certain statement by wriggling his hands between the bed and Louis’ back, angling his hips up slightly and instead of a moan he gets a strangled cry. “Good?”
“Oh yeah,” Louis nods frantically, staring up at Harry with wide eyes and ruffled hair, “so good, just right - oh!”
He dissolves into breathiness and Harry’s mouth is there waiting for him to claim. They continue to kiss as their orgasms build and Louis wishes he could get a hand around his leaking dick but Harry’s body is stuck to him from collarbone to hip and that makes it virtually impossible, so he simply has to settle for the drag of Harry’s stomach. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just not quite enough to make him come and maybe Harry knows that, maybe he doesn’t, its maddening nonetheless.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
“I should - oh - I should think so,” Louis manages to quip with a breathless giggle as he blinks furiously and tries to stop his eyes from rolling back. He doesn’t want to miss a single second more of this, not when Harry’s rhythm is starting to falter. “I’m sweating like...a sweaty thing,”
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” Harry gasps into his mouth with a tilt of his head and pushing his tongue forward for them to meet. “and - ” Louis tenses his thighs against his waist, squeezing every time a thrust feels especially pleasurable, “yeah, when you do that - that’s just fucking sexy. You’re fucking sexy, with your hair and your eyes and your stupid cheekbones,”
“Stupid - ?”
“I love you,” Harry interrupts Louis' disbelief, rolling his hips into him and not retreating, but letting the moment hang.
“Oh fuck,” Louis almost sighs, defeated, as the quick change of a nudge rather than a shove into him and those three little words send his heart and his cock tripping over the edge.
His back arches of its own accord and his mouth is slack as, eyes closed, he coats his and Harry’s stomachs with come. There’s a hitch of breath against where Harry is hovering over him motionlessly and Louis feels distinctly stickier than before. Once he’s ceased trembling like jelly, Harry goes to move but all Louis wants him to do is withdraw from his body and stay close.
“For the record,” he says as Harry’s curls tickle his nose from where he’s got an arm tight around his neck and Harry’s face again tucked into his neck, “I love you back.”
“Hmm,” Harry murmurs, breaking Louis’ hold to sit up with a smile that shows his dimples and heavy lids, “good to know.”
He disappears into the bathroom despite Louis’ protests, so Louis cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders to get out any of the kinks from pleasurable tension before they crawl under the (okay, damp and slightly ruined) sheets. He’s just putting his arm behind his head and lifting one knee with his foot flat on the bed in a comfortable half sprawl when he hears Harry’s voice.
“Oh god - ”
But Louis doesn’t let him finish, talking to the ceiling and not even looking to see Harry’s wild eyed expression, “I know, I should probably shower, but I’m too happy to just lie here in Vegas with my boyfriend who tells me he loves me during fucking great sex and - ”
“No,” Harry says, and eyes Louis didn’t know he had closed in satisfaction pop open at the firm, slightly strained tone, “no showering. I want you again.”
“Now?” Louis laughs incredulously, leaning up on his elbows and staring at Harry with twinkly eyes when he comes to loom over him at the side of the bed, “I’d love to, babe, but I don’t think my recovery time is that quick. Not sure anyone’s is, to be honest.”
Harry licks his lips and regardless of coming two seconds ago or two hours ago, Louis will always find that hypnotising and irresistible, “Doesn’t matter.”
“...What?”
Louis looks at him warily now, at how his green eyes are fixed to the sweat and come streaked across his body and the shadows of the night hitting the newly defined angles of his face. When Harry slowly lies on his side next to him, he sees that his pupils are already (or maybe still) dilated and his slightly parted mouth means his lips get dry and he has to keep licking them.
“It doesn’t matter.” he breathes quietly and he puts a warm hand to Louis’ cheek before kissing him.
Louis still has little idea what he’s on about, so it really is a shock when fingers trail from his face to broadly flatten as a palm down the length of his torso that smoothes through the come drying on his skin and presses into his inner thighs, signalling for them to widen more.
Louis wrenches his lips from Harry, turning his head to the side and into the relative cool of the sheets beneath him, “Harry, what - ”
“I’m gonna make you come again,” he finally answers and Louis’ body jolts from an imaginary fall, the kind you usually get just before you sleep, “right now.”
“How - what - I can’t!” he splutters, although his cock does twitch like the traitor it is.
Using his forearm and his side position to balance himself, Harry rubs his thumb against Louis’ damp temple and smiles at him with such dirty determination that Louis feels whatever is holding him back unlock and he only mutters a token “can’t” as Harry’s other hand slides between his spread legs. Louis gasps for quickly stolen breath and moans like he’s wounded as fingers slip through the wet of his hole and straight into the still welcoming heat of his body to make him squirm. It reminds him of the few times he’s not had Harry with him and as put fingers inside himself and tugged at his cock to bring himself off. Except he’s not then sticky with lube and come and the length of Harry’s fingers is all the more apparent now that it’s those making him cry out and not his dick.
And cry out he does, his limbs taut in wonderful agony as Harry starts thrusting and wiggling them in and out. He varies the pace and how many fingers until Louis is shuddering next to his forearm and it feels like he settles on three with an offbeat rhythm, pulling out completely then shoving up and Louis is powerless to help the noises from spilling out.
Harry rests his forehead towards the side of Louis’ damp hair and vows, “I’m gonna make you come so hard.”
Louis grits his teeth and fights to stare stubbornly into Harry’s face, even though his eyelashes flutter like demented butterfly wings and any of his grips on Harry’s body is decidedly weak. Harry crooks his fingers, jabs in and rubs his thumb around the slick of his stretched hole and that’s enough to make him shout, his voice so far into husky and wrecked that it’s almost no voice at all. He comes as hard as his body will allow, clenching around Harry’s fingers with all the energy he has left and painting his stomach with lazier, exhausted streaks.
“Oh my god, incredible,” Harry mutters, still leaning into Louis as he withdraws carefully and closes that hand around his cock that has since fully awakened.
Louis watches him with liquid limbs as he tries to make himself climax as quickly as he ever remembers him doing, pitching forward slightly for tiny kisses that he lets him take without complaint. Harry’s lips are soft and swollen above his and if Louis had any higher brain function he’d find that he’d probably quite like to lick them over and over, just to see them get redder and redder. As it is, he settles for dividing his looking time between Harry’s face with his little frown of concentration and the hand that was just inside Louis making a fist to pull at his flushed cock.
“You made me come again.” Louis whispers with a tiny smile just as Harry is about to go in for another kiss.
He groans long and loud instead and then his come is dripping over his knuckles and splashing onto the near curve of Louis’ hip.
Once Harry’s returned to the land of the living, Louis sniggers as he wipes his messy palm into the sheets and seemingly doesn’t care if they have housekeeping the next morning. Besides, what do they expect in the penthouse suite with two virile young men who fancy the pants off each other?
Harry hums, pleased, and shuffles closer to Louis to nuzzle underneath his jaw with affection, “In the morning, I’ll suck you off in the shower.”
“More surprises?” he teases ironically, carefully stretching a tired arm around Harry’s shoulders to bring him in, “I could get used to this.”
Thankfully for him, Harry’s true to his word.
fin.