braveheart, show me what you got - 1D: Harry/Louis - 1/1
Title: braveheart, show me what you got
Author: imagination55 @ beautility / theprincessed @ a03
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Rating: R
Word Count: ~3,400
Summary: It takes Louis three days to figure out that Harry is keeping something from him...Or Harry realises he has a thing for Louis' feet and Louis' okay with exploiting it a bit.
A/N: Random thing I posted a few days ago on ao3. I know nobody checks LJ anymore, but it felt weird to write something and not put it on my writing journal, so. Inspired by this gif (NSFW!) and the fact that Louis does have pretty cute feet. Title snatched from Neon Jungle's Braveheart as it was in my head at the time. Comments are always love. <3
It takes Louis three days to figure out that Harry is keeping something from him.
Often Harry is as easy to read as an open book and struggles to be a convincing liar on top of that, which is perhaps why it’s so noticeable when things change. The break from the band has done them both a world of good, so Louis’ not worried as such, just painfully curious and everyone knows that’s probably just as dangerous because he will poke and prod until he gets his answers. In the past it might’ve backfired, but laid back Harry is a gift, spilling his thoughts and feelings like they were never secret to begin with.
Day One and Harry had returned from a rare Friday shopping escapade around London, hovering by the door to their games room and laden down by more bags than normal. Louis briefly glanced his way then back to the television, fingers and thumbs moving in quick, practiced rhythm with the sound of artificial cheering and commentary from the console loud in the darkened room. It was the only place in their whole house that didn’t have a single window, cocooned like a den and completely away from potential prying eyes. They weren’t strangers to having sex in this room, which is why when Harry flopped down next to him and Louis shoved his legs onto his lap, he wasted no time in beginning to knead his bare foot over the soft rise of Harry’s crotch because he was back home, it was fun and could either lead nowhere or somewhere, both outcomes he was absolutely fine with entertaining. They weren’t new to some idle footsie either, usually under a table when they supposed to be anything but distracted or this more cock-fondling brand of across from each other on a dinner date night in, but Harry’s reaction was new indeed - a sharp intake of breath as his hand suddenly clenched around Louis’ flexing ankle, pushing his feet off his lap as he’d staggered to his own.
“I - uh, I’m gonna shower,” he said, clearly flustered and all but running out of the room.
It hadn’t been a lie exactly, as a few seconds later, Louis had heard the distant rush of the shower turning on, but it was odd.
Day Two was more perplexing followed by quite fuzzy. Settled down after a night of “doing it right” with candles, good food and silverware a restaurant would’ve been proud of, they were both naked and tangled up in their unbearably soft, huge bed. Trading slow, open-mouthed kisses, Louis turned from his side and pulled Harry on top of him, so ready to feel the broad width of his body pressing him into the mattress.
Well, he tried to.
He thought he had Harry nicely preoccupied with his tongue and he slid his arms around to the nape of neck to play with the curls that always sprung out with very little coaxing. However, as he squeezed his thighs against Harry’s hips and crossed his ankles around his back to feel their bodies together as close as possible from the outside, Harry froze. Before Louis could break their kiss and ask, he kicked into action again, using the split second of Louis’ confusion to roll them both the other way so that Harry was now underneath him.
“I want - ” he panted, leaning up to kiss Louis harder than before and groping a big handful of his arse, “You should ride me. I mean - I want that. Please.”
Louis blinked at him hazily, trying to remember why this felt edgy, before shrugging. “Alright. Lemme just - ” He moved to face away from Harry, intending to suck his cock for a bit and his feet up by Harry’s head.
“No!” Harry exclaimed, grabbing his wrist steadying him on the bed, before he quite realised his outburst. “Um.”
Louis’ eyes narrowed, calculating. He sat down in Harry’s open lap, his cock warm and stiff below him, and leaned forward with a shrewd look on his face. He curled his fingers lightly against Harry’s pecs. “Since when've you refused a blowjob? What’s going on with you?”
“...Nothing?” Harry replied slowly, tone lifting. He grimaced when Louis laughed softly and put his warm hands over Louis’ to stop their flexing and scratching. “Just thinking that’s all, I guess.” he admitted with a slight sigh, well aware that trying to lie would get him nowhere, especially with Louis.
“About? Christ, Haz, it’s like pulling teeth,” he huffed, rolling his hips to remind him of their situation. “Come on, you’ve been acting weird since yesterday and you’re not getting away with it anymore, so tell me.”
Had he not been staring down into Harry’s face he might’ve missed the sideways look he made to Louis’ feet, but all it did was make him more confused. Thinking the worst, he automatically tried to pull one up, which was a lot harder than it seemed, his thighs protesting wildly and his neck straining. “What?” he wheezed, amid still trying, “Is there something wrong with my feet? Do they smell? I’ve been wearing socks!” he protested, giving up and blowing out his held breath, “I don’t even wear TOMs anymore!”
Harry shook his head quickly, rubbing his massive paws along Louis’ knees like he’d somehow offended his most sensitive of sensibilities. “Hey, no, it’s not that - it’s not you - well, it is, but - just - ” he sighed, defeated, then sat up carefully and kissed Louis’ collarbone. “Can we forget I said anything? I’m being stupid. Please, Lou.”
Louis cursed that thoroughly kissable, reddened pout.
Day Three, the following morning, and Louis decides that actually he’s had enough.
Despite the terrible job at denial, he knows Harry’s turmoil has something to do with his feet, so he slips out of bed early and takes a fairly long shower, anxious that Harry hasn’t woken up before he gets back. Clean as a whistle, he scrubs a towel through his hair and slides from their en-suite. He has been known to do it on his knees, but that was before he injured it, it’s early on a dreary Sunday and Harry hadn’t stirred. All those things to his advantage, Louis tosses the towel onto the floor and starts to crawl up the bed before he pauses. Slowly, he pulls his pillow away and plumps it up at the end of the bed, the frame something solid to lean against. Harry’s legs are spread slightly wider than usual; his arms raised on the pillow either side of his fluffy head, lips parted. It’s the perfect position for Louis to wiggle into and then stretch out to get comfortable. Holding his breath, he touches his big toe to the inside of Harry’s right thigh.
No reaction.
Emboldened, Louis presses all of the toes of his right foot to the same spot, his head snapping up when he hears Harry make a noise. He snuffles sleepily but makes no further effort to awaken, clearly content to enjoy another Sunday off. Louis can’t help his smile, still not sure if this is a game or something more, but carrying on anyway because he likes the way Harry can still intrigue him. It’s exciting and has him pushing his foot up a little higher than intended, his toes brushing the underside of Harry’s balls. His body jerks like it’s ticklish, trying to get away from the mystery feeling but he continues to stubbornly keep his eyes closed. Louis doesn’t know if Harry knows, but he’s willing to find out as he busts out a move from their often illicit games of footsie, rubbing his foot with more pressure against Harry’s soft cock.
“Lou?” he mumbles, his morning voice making Louis shiver but not stop.
Harry doesn’t either, not like two days ago in the games room and not last night when Louis had blowing him sixty-nine in mind, so he shifts a tad closer and lifts his other foot to rest at the other side of Harry’s dick. He swears it’s starting to stir and his mouth waters at the same time that his toes twitch near the silky smooth skin. He goes through phases of shaving and not probably purely based on his mood because he’s just that whimsical and Louis can feel the beginnings of growth under his heel, making him push harder against Harry’s pelvis until he’s got his stiffening erection nestled in the space between his bent feet. He’s about to try pulling them up towards his chest, sliding Harry’s foreskin up with the movement when fingers clamp down on his ankle again, right over his tattoo.
“What’re you doin’?” Harry asks, sounding more clear-headed now that he’s woken up properly.
“I - ” Louis hesitates. It’s fairly obvious what’s happening, Harry fucking started it by being so cagey all of a sudden, and yet Louis still feels like he’s mostly guessing about what should feel good. “Do you like it?” he questions instead, “Is this what you wanted?”
Harry closes his thighs, his knobbly knees shifting under Louis’ bum and forcing him lay his feet open next to Harry’s hips as he lets out a breath and sits up to face Louis. He looks sleep-rumpled like normal with his hair a wild mess, but his eyes are sparkling. He puts his palm to Louis’ left instep, the tips of his long fingers poking up over his toes.
“You wouldn’t be able to do it like that anyway,”
Louis frowns. “Yes, I would. It’s a footjob, Harold, not a fucking three course meal.”
Harry smirks, one dimple popping slyly. “Oh I don’t know. Could be.”
Louis’ shocked into silence as he watches Harry lower his head, keeping eye contact through his eyelashes as he brushes his lips just below Louis’ smallest toe, causing him to kick out reflexively and hit the solid muscle of Harry’s abs.
“Go away!” he yelps, but he’s powerless to stop the giggle that slips out with it, “This is your thing, not mine! I don’t want you sucking my bloody toes!”
Harry’s smile is easy. “Where do you want me then?”
He winds his arms around Louis’ waist to stave off the reply, kissing him on the mouth and falling backwards until they’re in the position they were last night. As Louis closes his eyes and sinks into the feel of Harry’s tongue flicking over his, he has a flashback of riding his dick hard and fast, choosing to keep quiet like this for the fun of it, the challenge.
“I could - ” he says haltingly when their lips break apart, leaning into the way Harry immediately sucks at his pulse point, thick and alive. “If you wanna - ” The mere thought makes his hole clench, it feels like so soon and yet that’s part of the thrill, sensitive to the fuck.
He reaches up to brush the mass of Harry’s hair away from his face, reminded of how those scarves of his do such a good job until he’s ready to cut it again. But Harry shakes his head with a happy little smile then rolls them over so that he’s right there, curls getting in his eyes anyway as his hand passes warmly across Louis’ bare thigh. “Not yet. I want to try something first, please. If that’s okay?”
He knows it’s incredibly silly to be baffled and, moreso, to be inexplicably aroused by his gentle politeness but Louis can only nod wordlessly as Harry shuffles off their bed. Louis waits the required 0.2 seconds of patience before making the grabby hands towards Harry’s retreating form, letting out a terrible squawk of surprise as Harry uses his ankles to yank him bodily down to where he is stood at the end of the bed. However, the frame is in the way and he barks his lovely, unabashed laugh when he tries to manhandle Louis around with the same grip and wriggles out from the danger of getting kicked in the balls for his trouble.
“Easy, tiger,” he soothes but grins so wide, petting at Louis’ shins as he towers above him now lying widthways on the bed with nothing to stop whatever Harry’s apparent plan is. “Gonna need those toesies for something very important,”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Louis groans, covering his face with his hands momentarily, “You’re the worst,”
“I know, I know,” he shrugs, lifting Louis’ ankle to drop a light kiss to the bone, “but you’re the best so we even out.”
Louis rolls his eyes because he’s used to it and Harry knows he’s always endeared by his sappy comebacks so he doesn’t have to say so. Instead, he leans up on his elbows when he’s aware that Harry hasn’t dropped his legs yet. “Well,” he raises his eyebrows, “you got me here, so what’re you gonna do about it?”
Harry groans a little, mainly just for show, he thinks, “So many things. But first maybe - ” He pushes Louis’ legs closed with a small gap left between his feet and his big hands back to securely holding his ankles. He leans forward, biting his lip as Louis has to counteract it by bending his knees towards his chest. “Can you stay like that? Is it comfy?”
“Not the first time I’ve been on my back, knees bent, is it,” he replies dryly.
He gets a lick of satisfaction out of the predatory look on Harry’s face, angular in the shadows of the drawn curtains and bedroom with no light switched on yet. Everything is soft and grey, except his eyes, peridot green and clearly relishing the modicum of control he has in this situation. Louis lets him have it, would do anything for his boy, which is why there’s no words as Harry keeps his ankles raised with one hand and tugs on his cock a couple of times with the other, a swear or two slipping from Louis’ mouth because the size of them and what they can do always punches him in the solar plexus. Sometimes when he least expects it, like when Harry comes back from a vending machine in between interviews, clutching two cans and a chocolate bar in one.
Louis is so caught up in fantasies about Harry’s hands that he jumps slightly at the first real touch of Harry’s cock gliding straight through the gap in his feet, but it quickly turns into a shiver as he notes the feel of his foreskin and how he’s starting to drip with precome already. Some of it smears on the sides of his soles and Louis relaxes his knees down a little, getting into the rhythm it, as Harry comes so close he can almost feel the rock hard grooves leading down from his hips. Once or twice, his balls smack at his heels and Louis’ face scrunches up with the giggles before Harry catches on quick and changes his thrusts, making them tight and fast, dragging his foreskin back and forth with the movement to create better friction that from the blissed-out look on his face he must feel right up his spine. He’s so hot is the thing, Louis thinks in a tunnel-vision daze, watching his hair curl against his neck from exertion and his jaw fall slack with the pleasure of using Louis in a way he had obviously started to wish for. He almost feels like he shouldn’t interrupt, which is quite alien, and he finds that he sticks to it, fisting the sheets as Harry moans because of him. Except when he arches his back to get rid of itch between his shoulderblades and bares his throat automatically, Harry’s noises get louder.
“Oh - oh fuck,” he stutters, squeezing Louis’ ankles to bring him to attention, “please, go on, go - touch yourself, Lou - I can’t - ”
“Yeah,” he agrees breathlessly, because he didn’t know if he could be passive in this for much longer. “You’re a bit tied up at the mo’ aren’t you, babe,” not even sure that was what Harry “can’t” do, but of course willing to make the joke anyway.
Hand around his own thus-far neglected erection, Louis starts to pump his fist in time with Harry’s rolling hips to try and catch up to his level of arousal, the setup not unlike when Harry is hot and firm inside him. “Oh god, I wish you were fucking me proper right now,” he gasps, pinching his fingers underneath the head of his cock and at a peaked nipple with the other. “C’mon, talk to me, Harry, please,”
“Look so good, so gorgeous, Lou, really,” he croaks obediently, but Louis growls with frustration.
“Not that - why the - why the feet thing - nghh - ” He speeds up his wanking and reaches down to rub at his balls, feeling exposed to Harry’s greedy eyes locked onto his every move when he understands that even now Louis still wants to know why.
“Just so small,” he moans brokenly and holds tighter onto Louis like he can read his mind with all its automatic protests about being tiny and cute and foldable, “so pretty. You’re fucking perfect all over, darling,”
“Oh, you fucker,” Louis snaps because Harry knows that petname is his kryptonite for reasons he can’t explain, but at least he knows Harry’s too. Ready to find release, he slips his pinkie finger between his cheeks and into his loose hole, something to squeeze around as his dick twitches and he comes in satisfying spurts, gasping heavy hitched breaths as stickiness coats his skin.
He blinks out from the descending afterglow when he hears Harry whine above him, his cockhead coloured deep pink and so shiny and enticing that he kicks Harry’s hands away in a move he’d be otherwise rather proud of in one of the band’s boredom wrestling moments and spreads his thighs wantonly with Harry already starting to take over and wank.
“That’s it, come on me - good, yeah,” Louis praises, smiling around two of his fingers as he licks them clean of his come, anything to finish Harry off. Something guttural crawls its way from Harry’s chest, so deep that Louis feels it in his bones, as he leans a hand on the bed to keep himself upright. Louis senses he needs one final push over the edge, his wrist as frantic as the pleading frown on his face, so raises his foot to rub against Harry’s collarbones, right under the bird etched into his skin and tucks two fingers into himself where Harry can plainly see. “You like that, baby? Wanna get fucked too? Gotta make you come first then I’ll fuck you, promise.”
His eyelashes flutter from the drag of his fingers but it works in his favour too, Harry appreciating the look on his face as his abs suddenly contract and his cock shoots its load onto Louis’ body, splashing his wrist, his toned stomach and right across his nipple. He crumples face first next to Louis once he's wrung out every last drop, struggling to breathe, as the bed bounces under his weight.
“Your thing and I’m the one fucking covered,” Louis points out grumpily once they’ve calmed down.
With a lucky aim, Harry reaches out with eyes closed to his nipple, gathers the dollop of come onto his fingers and promptly shoves them into Louis’ mouth. Amid the muffled yelp, Harry opens his eyes, expression cheeky. “Shut up and eat it.”
They wrestle around for a bit, giddy and sated, until Louis is beneath him and he’s massaging the flat of his sticky foot into the back of Harry’s thigh.
“So have you got anything else to say for yourself?”
He meets Louis’ eyes and shrugs one shoulder, his toes pressed to Louis' ankle. “I’ve always liked them. Just had an idea what we could do with them, that’s all.”
“I think it worked,” Louis smiles, trailing his hands over the knobs of his spine. “It was pretty hot to watch you get into it, right above me, but not fucking me. You’re beautiful when you come apart like that, like you can’t believe I said yes.”
Harry lights up from the inside out but tries to hold it in, nudging Louis’ shoulder with his nose instead. “Now who’s the sap, hm?”
Predictably, Louis ignores him. “Now I wanna know what else on me gets you off...?”
Harry’s smile disappears from view as he tucks his face into his neck and snakes his fingers up to tug none too gently on his hair as his answer and question in one.
Louis feels a shudder run through him at the sharpness of the pain, not entirely sure that Harry’s alone in that.
fin.
Author: imagination55 @ beautility / theprincessed @ a03
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Part: 1/1 - Standalone
Rating: R
Word Count: ~3,400
Summary: It takes Louis three days to figure out that Harry is keeping something from him...Or Harry realises he has a thing for Louis' feet and Louis' okay with exploiting it a bit.
A/N: Random thing I posted a few days ago on ao3. I know nobody checks LJ anymore, but it felt weird to write something and not put it on my writing journal, so. Inspired by this gif (NSFW!) and the fact that Louis does have pretty cute feet. Title snatched from Neon Jungle's Braveheart as it was in my head at the time. Comments are always love. <3
It takes Louis three days to figure out that Harry is keeping something from him.
Often Harry is as easy to read as an open book and struggles to be a convincing liar on top of that, which is perhaps why it’s so noticeable when things change. The break from the band has done them both a world of good, so Louis’ not worried as such, just painfully curious and everyone knows that’s probably just as dangerous because he will poke and prod until he gets his answers. In the past it might’ve backfired, but laid back Harry is a gift, spilling his thoughts and feelings like they were never secret to begin with.
Day One and Harry had returned from a rare Friday shopping escapade around London, hovering by the door to their games room and laden down by more bags than normal. Louis briefly glanced his way then back to the television, fingers and thumbs moving in quick, practiced rhythm with the sound of artificial cheering and commentary from the console loud in the darkened room. It was the only place in their whole house that didn’t have a single window, cocooned like a den and completely away from potential prying eyes. They weren’t strangers to having sex in this room, which is why when Harry flopped down next to him and Louis shoved his legs onto his lap, he wasted no time in beginning to knead his bare foot over the soft rise of Harry’s crotch because he was back home, it was fun and could either lead nowhere or somewhere, both outcomes he was absolutely fine with entertaining. They weren’t new to some idle footsie either, usually under a table when they supposed to be anything but distracted or this more cock-fondling brand of across from each other on a dinner date night in, but Harry’s reaction was new indeed - a sharp intake of breath as his hand suddenly clenched around Louis’ flexing ankle, pushing his feet off his lap as he’d staggered to his own.
“I - uh, I’m gonna shower,” he said, clearly flustered and all but running out of the room.
It hadn’t been a lie exactly, as a few seconds later, Louis had heard the distant rush of the shower turning on, but it was odd.
Day Two was more perplexing followed by quite fuzzy. Settled down after a night of “doing it right” with candles, good food and silverware a restaurant would’ve been proud of, they were both naked and tangled up in their unbearably soft, huge bed. Trading slow, open-mouthed kisses, Louis turned from his side and pulled Harry on top of him, so ready to feel the broad width of his body pressing him into the mattress.
Well, he tried to.
He thought he had Harry nicely preoccupied with his tongue and he slid his arms around to the nape of neck to play with the curls that always sprung out with very little coaxing. However, as he squeezed his thighs against Harry’s hips and crossed his ankles around his back to feel their bodies together as close as possible from the outside, Harry froze. Before Louis could break their kiss and ask, he kicked into action again, using the split second of Louis’ confusion to roll them both the other way so that Harry was now underneath him.
“I want - ” he panted, leaning up to kiss Louis harder than before and groping a big handful of his arse, “You should ride me. I mean - I want that. Please.”
Louis blinked at him hazily, trying to remember why this felt edgy, before shrugging. “Alright. Lemme just - ” He moved to face away from Harry, intending to suck his cock for a bit and his feet up by Harry’s head.
“No!” Harry exclaimed, grabbing his wrist steadying him on the bed, before he quite realised his outburst. “Um.”
Louis’ eyes narrowed, calculating. He sat down in Harry’s open lap, his cock warm and stiff below him, and leaned forward with a shrewd look on his face. He curled his fingers lightly against Harry’s pecs. “Since when've you refused a blowjob? What’s going on with you?”
“...Nothing?” Harry replied slowly, tone lifting. He grimaced when Louis laughed softly and put his warm hands over Louis’ to stop their flexing and scratching. “Just thinking that’s all, I guess.” he admitted with a slight sigh, well aware that trying to lie would get him nowhere, especially with Louis.
“About? Christ, Haz, it’s like pulling teeth,” he huffed, rolling his hips to remind him of their situation. “Come on, you’ve been acting weird since yesterday and you’re not getting away with it anymore, so tell me.”
Had he not been staring down into Harry’s face he might’ve missed the sideways look he made to Louis’ feet, but all it did was make him more confused. Thinking the worst, he automatically tried to pull one up, which was a lot harder than it seemed, his thighs protesting wildly and his neck straining. “What?” he wheezed, amid still trying, “Is there something wrong with my feet? Do they smell? I’ve been wearing socks!” he protested, giving up and blowing out his held breath, “I don’t even wear TOMs anymore!”
Harry shook his head quickly, rubbing his massive paws along Louis’ knees like he’d somehow offended his most sensitive of sensibilities. “Hey, no, it’s not that - it’s not you - well, it is, but - just - ” he sighed, defeated, then sat up carefully and kissed Louis’ collarbone. “Can we forget I said anything? I’m being stupid. Please, Lou.”
Louis cursed that thoroughly kissable, reddened pout.
Day Three, the following morning, and Louis decides that actually he’s had enough.
Despite the terrible job at denial, he knows Harry’s turmoil has something to do with his feet, so he slips out of bed early and takes a fairly long shower, anxious that Harry hasn’t woken up before he gets back. Clean as a whistle, he scrubs a towel through his hair and slides from their en-suite. He has been known to do it on his knees, but that was before he injured it, it’s early on a dreary Sunday and Harry hadn’t stirred. All those things to his advantage, Louis tosses the towel onto the floor and starts to crawl up the bed before he pauses. Slowly, he pulls his pillow away and plumps it up at the end of the bed, the frame something solid to lean against. Harry’s legs are spread slightly wider than usual; his arms raised on the pillow either side of his fluffy head, lips parted. It’s the perfect position for Louis to wiggle into and then stretch out to get comfortable. Holding his breath, he touches his big toe to the inside of Harry’s right thigh.
No reaction.
Emboldened, Louis presses all of the toes of his right foot to the same spot, his head snapping up when he hears Harry make a noise. He snuffles sleepily but makes no further effort to awaken, clearly content to enjoy another Sunday off. Louis can’t help his smile, still not sure if this is a game or something more, but carrying on anyway because he likes the way Harry can still intrigue him. It’s exciting and has him pushing his foot up a little higher than intended, his toes brushing the underside of Harry’s balls. His body jerks like it’s ticklish, trying to get away from the mystery feeling but he continues to stubbornly keep his eyes closed. Louis doesn’t know if Harry knows, but he’s willing to find out as he busts out a move from their often illicit games of footsie, rubbing his foot with more pressure against Harry’s soft cock.
“Lou?” he mumbles, his morning voice making Louis shiver but not stop.
Harry doesn’t either, not like two days ago in the games room and not last night when Louis had blowing him sixty-nine in mind, so he shifts a tad closer and lifts his other foot to rest at the other side of Harry’s dick. He swears it’s starting to stir and his mouth waters at the same time that his toes twitch near the silky smooth skin. He goes through phases of shaving and not probably purely based on his mood because he’s just that whimsical and Louis can feel the beginnings of growth under his heel, making him push harder against Harry’s pelvis until he’s got his stiffening erection nestled in the space between his bent feet. He’s about to try pulling them up towards his chest, sliding Harry’s foreskin up with the movement when fingers clamp down on his ankle again, right over his tattoo.
“What’re you doin’?” Harry asks, sounding more clear-headed now that he’s woken up properly.
“I - ” Louis hesitates. It’s fairly obvious what’s happening, Harry fucking started it by being so cagey all of a sudden, and yet Louis still feels like he’s mostly guessing about what should feel good. “Do you like it?” he questions instead, “Is this what you wanted?”
Harry closes his thighs, his knobbly knees shifting under Louis’ bum and forcing him lay his feet open next to Harry’s hips as he lets out a breath and sits up to face Louis. He looks sleep-rumpled like normal with his hair a wild mess, but his eyes are sparkling. He puts his palm to Louis’ left instep, the tips of his long fingers poking up over his toes.
“You wouldn’t be able to do it like that anyway,”
Louis frowns. “Yes, I would. It’s a footjob, Harold, not a fucking three course meal.”
Harry smirks, one dimple popping slyly. “Oh I don’t know. Could be.”
Louis’ shocked into silence as he watches Harry lower his head, keeping eye contact through his eyelashes as he brushes his lips just below Louis’ smallest toe, causing him to kick out reflexively and hit the solid muscle of Harry’s abs.
“Go away!” he yelps, but he’s powerless to stop the giggle that slips out with it, “This is your thing, not mine! I don’t want you sucking my bloody toes!”
Harry’s smile is easy. “Where do you want me then?”
He winds his arms around Louis’ waist to stave off the reply, kissing him on the mouth and falling backwards until they’re in the position they were last night. As Louis closes his eyes and sinks into the feel of Harry’s tongue flicking over his, he has a flashback of riding his dick hard and fast, choosing to keep quiet like this for the fun of it, the challenge.
“I could - ” he says haltingly when their lips break apart, leaning into the way Harry immediately sucks at his pulse point, thick and alive. “If you wanna - ” The mere thought makes his hole clench, it feels like so soon and yet that’s part of the thrill, sensitive to the fuck.
He reaches up to brush the mass of Harry’s hair away from his face, reminded of how those scarves of his do such a good job until he’s ready to cut it again. But Harry shakes his head with a happy little smile then rolls them over so that he’s right there, curls getting in his eyes anyway as his hand passes warmly across Louis’ bare thigh. “Not yet. I want to try something first, please. If that’s okay?”
He knows it’s incredibly silly to be baffled and, moreso, to be inexplicably aroused by his gentle politeness but Louis can only nod wordlessly as Harry shuffles off their bed. Louis waits the required 0.2 seconds of patience before making the grabby hands towards Harry’s retreating form, letting out a terrible squawk of surprise as Harry uses his ankles to yank him bodily down to where he is stood at the end of the bed. However, the frame is in the way and he barks his lovely, unabashed laugh when he tries to manhandle Louis around with the same grip and wriggles out from the danger of getting kicked in the balls for his trouble.
“Easy, tiger,” he soothes but grins so wide, petting at Louis’ shins as he towers above him now lying widthways on the bed with nothing to stop whatever Harry’s apparent plan is. “Gonna need those toesies for something very important,”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Louis groans, covering his face with his hands momentarily, “You’re the worst,”
“I know, I know,” he shrugs, lifting Louis’ ankle to drop a light kiss to the bone, “but you’re the best so we even out.”
Louis rolls his eyes because he’s used to it and Harry knows he’s always endeared by his sappy comebacks so he doesn’t have to say so. Instead, he leans up on his elbows when he’s aware that Harry hasn’t dropped his legs yet. “Well,” he raises his eyebrows, “you got me here, so what’re you gonna do about it?”
Harry groans a little, mainly just for show, he thinks, “So many things. But first maybe - ” He pushes Louis’ legs closed with a small gap left between his feet and his big hands back to securely holding his ankles. He leans forward, biting his lip as Louis has to counteract it by bending his knees towards his chest. “Can you stay like that? Is it comfy?”
“Not the first time I’ve been on my back, knees bent, is it,” he replies dryly.
He gets a lick of satisfaction out of the predatory look on Harry’s face, angular in the shadows of the drawn curtains and bedroom with no light switched on yet. Everything is soft and grey, except his eyes, peridot green and clearly relishing the modicum of control he has in this situation. Louis lets him have it, would do anything for his boy, which is why there’s no words as Harry keeps his ankles raised with one hand and tugs on his cock a couple of times with the other, a swear or two slipping from Louis’ mouth because the size of them and what they can do always punches him in the solar plexus. Sometimes when he least expects it, like when Harry comes back from a vending machine in between interviews, clutching two cans and a chocolate bar in one.
Louis is so caught up in fantasies about Harry’s hands that he jumps slightly at the first real touch of Harry’s cock gliding straight through the gap in his feet, but it quickly turns into a shiver as he notes the feel of his foreskin and how he’s starting to drip with precome already. Some of it smears on the sides of his soles and Louis relaxes his knees down a little, getting into the rhythm it, as Harry comes so close he can almost feel the rock hard grooves leading down from his hips. Once or twice, his balls smack at his heels and Louis’ face scrunches up with the giggles before Harry catches on quick and changes his thrusts, making them tight and fast, dragging his foreskin back and forth with the movement to create better friction that from the blissed-out look on his face he must feel right up his spine. He’s so hot is the thing, Louis thinks in a tunnel-vision daze, watching his hair curl against his neck from exertion and his jaw fall slack with the pleasure of using Louis in a way he had obviously started to wish for. He almost feels like he shouldn’t interrupt, which is quite alien, and he finds that he sticks to it, fisting the sheets as Harry moans because of him. Except when he arches his back to get rid of itch between his shoulderblades and bares his throat automatically, Harry’s noises get louder.
“Oh - oh fuck,” he stutters, squeezing Louis’ ankles to bring him to attention, “please, go on, go - touch yourself, Lou - I can’t - ”
“Yeah,” he agrees breathlessly, because he didn’t know if he could be passive in this for much longer. “You’re a bit tied up at the mo’ aren’t you, babe,” not even sure that was what Harry “can’t” do, but of course willing to make the joke anyway.
Hand around his own thus-far neglected erection, Louis starts to pump his fist in time with Harry’s rolling hips to try and catch up to his level of arousal, the setup not unlike when Harry is hot and firm inside him. “Oh god, I wish you were fucking me proper right now,” he gasps, pinching his fingers underneath the head of his cock and at a peaked nipple with the other. “C’mon, talk to me, Harry, please,”
“Look so good, so gorgeous, Lou, really,” he croaks obediently, but Louis growls with frustration.
“Not that - why the - why the feet thing - nghh - ” He speeds up his wanking and reaches down to rub at his balls, feeling exposed to Harry’s greedy eyes locked onto his every move when he understands that even now Louis still wants to know why.
“Just so small,” he moans brokenly and holds tighter onto Louis like he can read his mind with all its automatic protests about being tiny and cute and foldable, “so pretty. You’re fucking perfect all over, darling,”
“Oh, you fucker,” Louis snaps because Harry knows that petname is his kryptonite for reasons he can’t explain, but at least he knows Harry’s too. Ready to find release, he slips his pinkie finger between his cheeks and into his loose hole, something to squeeze around as his dick twitches and he comes in satisfying spurts, gasping heavy hitched breaths as stickiness coats his skin.
He blinks out from the descending afterglow when he hears Harry whine above him, his cockhead coloured deep pink and so shiny and enticing that he kicks Harry’s hands away in a move he’d be otherwise rather proud of in one of the band’s boredom wrestling moments and spreads his thighs wantonly with Harry already starting to take over and wank.
“That’s it, come on me - good, yeah,” Louis praises, smiling around two of his fingers as he licks them clean of his come, anything to finish Harry off. Something guttural crawls its way from Harry’s chest, so deep that Louis feels it in his bones, as he leans a hand on the bed to keep himself upright. Louis senses he needs one final push over the edge, his wrist as frantic as the pleading frown on his face, so raises his foot to rub against Harry’s collarbones, right under the bird etched into his skin and tucks two fingers into himself where Harry can plainly see. “You like that, baby? Wanna get fucked too? Gotta make you come first then I’ll fuck you, promise.”
His eyelashes flutter from the drag of his fingers but it works in his favour too, Harry appreciating the look on his face as his abs suddenly contract and his cock shoots its load onto Louis’ body, splashing his wrist, his toned stomach and right across his nipple. He crumples face first next to Louis once he's wrung out every last drop, struggling to breathe, as the bed bounces under his weight.
“Your thing and I’m the one fucking covered,” Louis points out grumpily once they’ve calmed down.
With a lucky aim, Harry reaches out with eyes closed to his nipple, gathers the dollop of come onto his fingers and promptly shoves them into Louis’ mouth. Amid the muffled yelp, Harry opens his eyes, expression cheeky. “Shut up and eat it.”
They wrestle around for a bit, giddy and sated, until Louis is beneath him and he’s massaging the flat of his sticky foot into the back of Harry’s thigh.
“So have you got anything else to say for yourself?”
He meets Louis’ eyes and shrugs one shoulder, his toes pressed to Louis' ankle. “I’ve always liked them. Just had an idea what we could do with them, that’s all.”
“I think it worked,” Louis smiles, trailing his hands over the knobs of his spine. “It was pretty hot to watch you get into it, right above me, but not fucking me. You’re beautiful when you come apart like that, like you can’t believe I said yes.”
Harry lights up from the inside out but tries to hold it in, nudging Louis’ shoulder with his nose instead. “Now who’s the sap, hm?”
Predictably, Louis ignores him. “Now I wanna know what else on me gets you off...?”
Harry’s smile disappears from view as he tucks his face into his neck and snakes his fingers up to tug none too gently on his hair as his answer and question in one.
Louis feels a shudder run through him at the sharpness of the pain, not entirely sure that Harry’s alone in that.
fin.