one direction: white boy wasted (2.0)
title: white boy wasted
fandom: one direction
pairing: ot5, harry/everyone
rating/words: NC-17/~10,700
warnings: fraternity AU, unprotected sex, dubcon, hair pulling, comeplay, gagging, choking, generally rough sex, oversensitivity
summary: Louis' notorious for this kind of behavior, for taking the humiliation just a little too far, but that's why he's the fraternity Chaplain. The pledges are terrified of him so he's able to keep them in line.
EDIT 01/08/13: The version below is a bit of a re-write from the original that was posted to the kinkmeme. The big changes/revisions focused on lessening a lot of the dubcon that was present in the original--but please note that there still is dubcon in this version! It mostly stems from the power dynamics but it is there, though certainly not as prominent as it was in the original kinkmeme version. Other than that, the fic remains more or less the same (even the ending, which is still absolutely terrible and that I swear I'll fix one day). Thanks for checking it out!
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“Drink up, Haz.” Louis has the bottom of the bottle of Goose placed over his groin, angling the neck of the bottle into the pledge’s mouth. Harry parts his lips slightly, getting the rim into his mouth and tilting his head, attempting to drink from it. Louis angles it downwards, trying to press it in farther. “Well, don’t take just the tip.” He taunts, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Harry’s curls. Harry hesitates, giving a sidelong glance to Zayn, Niall and Liam who are standing behind Louis, to his right. Zayn is silent, watching what’s happening with even breath, though Liam could probably attribute that to the blunt that had gotten passed around earlier. Liam shrugs, trying to look disinterested and Niall just laughs, like he always does when Louis gets to tormenting the pledges like this. Louis’s notorious for this kind of behavior, for taking the humiliation just a little too far, but that’s why he’s the fraternity Chaplain. The pledges are terrified of him so he’s able to keep them in line.
Liam can’t remember him ever taking things this far, though. He’s messed with pledges before, some of them so badly that they dropped out of the rush- but Liam doesn’t think he’s ever been as attached to any other pledge as he is to Harry. But Liam gets it- they’re all a little fixated on him. Liam had taken him for a shoe-in the very first day of rush- he was a legacy, his dad and three uncles already having passed through the house. Of course, there’s no denying it, Harry’s good looking, with features so precise that Liam would be tempted to call him pretty. He was charming and smarmy, with a hint of a maniac energy zipping below the surface. He was a little overeager, sure, but they all were, when they first came in. That was part of it- if the brothers couldn’t tell right away that you wanted to be in the house, you’d never get past the first round.
Liam must be drunker than he thinks because he honestly can’t remember how they got like this- all five of them in Niall’s room, with Louis more or less ordering Harry to simulate a blowjob using a bottle of vodka. There’s a ritual going on downstairs- Liam can hear the other brothers screaming obscenities at the pledges- and Harry had looked so relieved when Liam had tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him to step away from the group. He searches Harry’s face now, trying to see if there’s a glimpse of that relief still there. As Liam suspected, it’s long gone, now replaced with a mixture of terror and tentative excitement. He keeps look back to the rest of them, constantly double checking to make sure it’s not a joke. To be honest, Liam doesn’t even know anymore. He keeps expecting Louis to step away, to lightly smack Harry on the cheek with a teasing smile and tell him to get the fuck back downstairs. But the seconds keep on passing and his hand is still tight in Harry’s hair and Liam’s stomach begins to sink because oh no he means it this time but Liam isn’t even sure what “it” is.
“C’mon.” Louis urges, smiling cruelly as Harry opens his mouth, allowing him to push the bottle neck further in. It’s difficult to watch without getting hard- Harry’s got lips like a girl, full and wet and red, and Liam swears he’s not gay but he can’t stop staring as Harry opens his mouth a bit wider to fit the glass neck in. He gags almost immediately and tries to pull off but Louis still has a hand on his head, forcing him to stay down. He chokes again, struggling against Louis’s grip. “Breath through it.” Louis orders and Harry looks to the rest of them with wild eyes before Louis tightens his grip in his hair. “I said fucking breathe, Styles.” Harry gags a third time but breathes in sharply through his nose right after it passes, closing his eyes. Louis is having fun with it, almost too much, Liam would say. “Keep going. This is being counted as part of your rush” He mutters down to Harry, readjusting his hand on the bottle.
For a split second, Liam worries that he’ll lose his grip and that the bottle will fall and shatter everywhere, wasting at least a cup of good vodka, but then Harry looks to him again, his eyes desperate and watering, that damn mouth stretched around the neck of the bottle, and Liam realizes that the bottle breaking is the least of his worries right now. He looks to Niall and Zayn, trying to determine what kind of reaction he should be having to this. Niall is smiling, but it’s not a real smile- Liam can tell. It wavers at the corners and his hands are motionless at his sides. Staying still is a feat in and of itself for Niall, unless he’s either incredibly uncomfortable or extremely engrossed. Liam suspects that, right now, it’s a combination of both.
Louis stops thrusting the bottle into Harry’s mouth, but doesn’t pull it out just yet. He keeps the rim of it between Harry’s lips and tips it up slowly, the alcohol spilling out. Harry swallows, and Liam stares, transfixed, as Harry’s Adam’s apple bobs with the movement of his throat. He’s aware of his cock half-hard in his jeans but this whole situation feels like it’s happening to someone else- he’s too distracted to think about what his arousal might mean. Beside him, Niall folds his arms over his chest, his eyes wide and unblinking with rapt fascination as he watches Louis pull the bottle away and screw the cap on, tossing it onto the couch behind Harry. Louis turns and sees them all staring, silent and saucer-eyed and he laughs. God, of all the things he could do, he fucking laughs, loud and piercing and wild. Liam weakly hopes for a moment that this is when the joke stops and they send Harry back downstairs but he knows it won’t be that easy. Louis’s too wound up at this point; he’d never dare back down now. Harry is still kneeling before him, staring up at him with a look so obedient that it’s almost erotic. Louis glances down, running a hand through Harry’s curls before grabbing onto a handful of them tightly, quickly yanking upwards as hard as he dares. Liam hears Zayn inhale sharply as Harry cries out, his spine lengthening and his hands clutching at Louis’s thighs as he tries to keep his balance. And Liam really, really, really wishes that he was sitting down right now because that cry made him painfully hard and all he really wants right now is a pillow to place over his lap.
Louis looks to each of them, his gaze lingering and Liam feels his face burning hot when Louis stares at him, like somehow Louis can tell how much they all love it. He must know, though. If any one of them had been disgusted, they would’ve told him to stop or walked out by now. He supposes that it’s partially just because none of them wanted to look weak. The situation only becomes weird if one of them decides to make it weird, right? As long as they just stand there and don’t get hard, it’s just them watching Louis fuck around with a pledge, the kind of thing they’ve watched a million time. But Liam’s already failing on one of those counts and a quick glance downward towards Niall’s hips tells him that he’s not the only one.
Louis’s eyes flicker downward for a fraction of a second, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he looks back to Harry before Liam has anytime to defend himself. He glances at Zayn, who catches his eye and shrugs slightly as if to say, ‘Well what can we do?” Once Harry really starts to get uncomfortable, Louis will stop, Liam knows he will. Louis is a maniac, not a monster. There’s always the possibility that Harry won’t ever say stop, but Liam pushes it aside, refuses to acknowledge it. Because as long as it’s a power play- as long as it’s Louis dominating an unwilling Harry- then that’s fine, that’s normal, that’s a pledge ritual. But once Harry starts giving it to him, once he falls back into submission- then that’s a different beast, one that Liam can’t quite bring himself to face.
Louis turns back to Harry, tugging on his hair again, hard enough to make it hurt but not strongly enough to drag Harry from his knees. Harry whimpers softly, bracing himself against Louis’s legs, but never closing or lowering his eyes. He stares up at Louis, gritting his teeth against the ache. “Harry.” Louis begins evenly, his voice impressively steady. Liam can see where his tendons flex against his inner wrist and fuck, there’s something so hot about that, watching the muscles strain against the tanned skin. “Harry, how badly do you want to join this fraternity?” That makes Liam want to scream because this is so far beyond rush, this isn’t a fucking frat game anymore, even he’s willing to admit that.
But Harry nods as much as he can with Louis still holding onto his hair. “So badly.” He mutters and heat coils deep in Liam’s stomach as he hears how wrecked Harry sounds. No one’s even touched him like that but he already looks well fucked- flush creeps from his cheeks down his neck and across his chest, he’s breathing hard with pupils blown wide. And there’s no denying it- the way he says it- “so badly”- the words dripping off that obscene lower lip- it’s sexual in a way that’s almost ominous. Liam’s so hard that he could cry and he might, if this continues without any real payoff- and fuck, he has to stop himself because he never considered himself the type who would want payoff from something like this.
“What would you do?” Louis asks Harry, tilting his head upwards even more, so that Harry’s staring Louis right in the face. “What are you willing to do to get in?” Niall turns to Liam, more than slightly alarmed.
“He’s just fuckin’ with him, right?” Niall whispers, nervously glancing from Liam to Louis. “like..he’s not…we’re not…fuck, it’s just a joke, Louis’s just being a dick, yeah?” Liam gives a vague head movement- not quite a shake but certainly not a nod either. He stays silent, mostly because he’s more interested in Harry’s response.
Harry takes a second, swallows heavily. “Anything.” Harry nods again, breathing deeply. “I’d do anything.” Liam’s stomach clenches so tightly that he gasps a little.
"Alright, pledge." Louis bites out, letting go of Harry's hair and Harry sinks to his knees again, gasping, his hands shaking on his thighs. Louis looks down on him, steely-eyed. "You've proved yourself, you're free to go." Liam feels an unexpected drop in the pit of his stomach, something almost like disappointment, which doesn't make any sense because five minutes ago he was silently pleading with Harry to get up and leave. He glances to Zayn who just shrugs, biting on his thumbnail.
Harry's still staring up at Louis with that same reverent look that manages to be sexy and creepy at the same time. And Louis, to his credit, hasn't moved an inch either, hands twitching at his side, like he's not sure what to do. "I'm serious, Styles. You can leave, it's fine." This seems to snap Harry somewhat, because he blinks rapidly and chokes on an inhale of breath and nods, starting to get up.
"Unless--" Louis drawls and Harry sits back almost immediately. Liam could probably punch Louis if he could gather enough feeling in his legs. Unless what? "Unless you don't want to go." There's a collective gasp/choke/groan from Liam, Niall and Zayn.
Harry stutters for second, eyes going all wide and pretty. "W--what do you mean?"
Louis snorts, his fingers grazing Harry's chin. "I think you mean exactly what I mean."
Judging by his soft moan, yes, Harry does knows exactly what Louis means.
"But it won't be a pledge thing. It won't be hazing. If you want this, we'll give it to you--but only if you really want it, not because you're trying to impress us."
Niall leans over towards Zayn and Liam, swallowing heavily. "What's 'it'?" he asks softly, his fingers digging hard into the couch armrest.
"Y'know--" Zayn makes a quick jerk-off motion and Niall's eyes go wide.
"So--what'll it be?" Louis says, his hand still resting lightly on Harry's jaw. Harry looks to Louis for a long moment, then looks to the three of them and Liam can't believe how dark his eyes are, how flushed he is.
"Yeah." Harry finally says. "Yeah, I want it."
"You sure?" Louis presses, drawing his hand back for a second. "We won't be mad if you say no."
"Yes." Harry repeats, his voice cracking. "Yes I'm sure."
And there’s that dangerous smile parting Louis’s lips. He’s flushed too, and trembling a bit, but Liam can’t tell why, because Louis never gets nervous, especially when he’s in control. He releases his hold on Harry and Harry sighs gratefully, sinking onto the back of his knees. His hair sticks out wildly where Louis was grabbing it and on anyone else it would look ridiculous, but Harry pulls it off with the dazed look of someone who just gotten bent over a table. Louis glances up, looking to all three of them again before holding out his hand and beckoning to Niall. “C’mon.” he says. Niall hesitates, looking to Zayn and then to Liam. “Niall.” Louis repeats, sterner this time. “Come here.” Niall obeys, because whether they’ll admit it or not, when Louis says jump, they all say “how high?”
Louis grabs Niall by the belt and drags him closer, his hand slipping down to work at the buckle but Niall jumps back before he can make any real progress. ‘What the fuck, man?!” Niall cries, so completely bewildered with what’s happening that makes Liam ache. Niall’s gasping for air, his hands suddenly animated once again- clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“He said anything.” Louis says, as though the answer is as simple as that. “You’re not turning down a blow job, are you?” Harry makes a muffled noise at Louis’s words, somewhere between a groan and a choke but Louis doesn’t even grant him a look. Niall’s still wary, looking to Zayn and Liam for help. Liam doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know what he wants to say. But it turns out that he doesn’t need to, because Zayn says it for him.
“Go on, Niall.” Zayn tells him, the first real words Liam’s heard him say since they came up here. Niall stares at him, slack jawed. “Just…just..It’ll be fine, Niall. Go on.” He repeats, nodding a bit and Liam knows him well enough to be able to hear when there’s a lump in his throat. Zayn catches his eye and moves closer to him, nodding slightly and Liam finds himself nodding back.
“Yeah, do it, Niall.” His words sound foreign in his ears and he can’t stop staring at Zayn as he says them. He can’t believe what he’s saying but it doesn’t weird him out as much as it probably should, encouraging this kind of behavior. “It’ll…it’ll be…” he’s not sure how to fill in that gap. It’ll be funny? It’ll be hot? Because originally it was just for laughs but now Liam’s sure that’s not the case. Niall stares at him for a few long moments before nodding and looking down to work at his belt. Liam feels a tinge of anger- of course Louis would pick Niall to be the first, Niall trusts all of them too much to say no- but that’s soon replaced by another curl of heat between his hips as Niall pulls his cock out. It’s hard and full, already wet at the tip. Liam’s a bit relived, to tell the truth, that he wasn’t the only one with that reaction. Harry’s face has flushed even darker, if that were possible and it’s only when he reaches up to fix his fringe that Liam notices that his hands are shaking terribly. Louis grabs Niall by the sleeve and pulls him in front of Harry.
“You said anything.” Louis asserts, holding his gaze. .
“Alright.” Harry breathes, more to himself than anyone else. “Alright. Yeah. Okay.” He looks at Niall’s cock with bewilderment, like he’s not quite sure what to do with it and Liam thinks (Liam prays) that he’ll make the smart move and pussy out, but he just inhales again and wraps a hand around Niall. Niall tenses, inhaling sharply through his nose and a groan slips out, little by little, as Harry takes him into his mouth. And fuck it if Liam doesn’t have to look away because it’s too much- Louis, Niall, Harry (god, Harry) - it’s too damn much and all it was supposed to be was a fucking frat game.
It becomes quite clear within the first few seconds that Harry has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He watches Niall the whole time, sucking around the head of his cock, his hand squeezing around the rest of Niall’s length. “Deeper, Styles.” Louis orders, though his voice has gone from bossy to slightly strained. But Harry obeys. Two words out of Louis’s mouth and Harry sinks down, taking Niall into his mouth properly. For a second, Liam allows himself to wonder if Harry’s lips feel as good as they look like they would and whether or not he’s going to get the chance to find out.
He wonders if it’s weird for Harry, to have the three of them watching this. For the most part, Harry keeps his eyes closed or angled up at Niall, watching his face for signs of approval. Liam stays off to the side, keeping close to Zayn because they’re the ones who got Niall into this in the first place and he feels a sense of responsibility now.
Niall moans again, letting his head loll to the side as he bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut. He mumbles something intelligible and unconsciously jerks his hips forward, thrusting into Harry’s mouth deeper than he can take. Harry’s eyes fly open as he chokes and pulls off, gasping, though he keeps his hand working clumsily at Niall’s length. “Sorry.” Niall mutters sheepishly, but Harry just gives a small laugh, still out of breath.
“’s fine.” He says and takes Niall in again, allowing Niall to rest a hand on the back of his head. Liam can see the bulge in Harry’s cheek as he presses the head of Niall’s cock against the inside of his mouth and he’d snicker, if the situation could permit it, because god, that’s such a porn thing to do. He watches Harry’s mouth, hypnotized by the sight of him sinking down further onto Niall and pulling off, leaving the length of skin shiny and wet. Liam’s desperate for any kind of friction- the fabric of his boxers against his cock isn’t enough- but he crosses his arms over his chest, refusing to allow himself to actively take pleasure from this. Louis is going to have to drag him into it kicking and screaming, and the longer he listens to Niall’s gasps, the more he hopes that Louis will.
Niall loses his rhythm and thrusts too deeply again, but his hand on the back of Harry’s head prevents him from pulling off, forcing him to go deeper and he gags violently, his eyes watering. It takes all the self control Liam has to not touch himself because it’s so fucking hot, the fact that Harry can’t do anything, the fact that he has to sit there and just take it, take whatever they give him. “You can puke on Niall, if you need to.” Louis taunts, and Niall is too gone to act disgusted. He nods furiously instead- ‘Yeah, yeah, you can, Harry- fuck, that would be kind of hot, actually.” To Liam’s right, Zayn keens softly and Liam looks over to see him biting nervously at the skin around his thumbnail.
“You alright?” Liam asks him, even though he knows that Zayn isn’t. They’re about to gangbang pledge, if Liam is accurately gauging Louis’s intentions, so obviously they aren’t fucking alright, but Liam so desperately wants to keep the situation normal, even as it spins out of his control with every passing second. Zayn nods anyway.
“I just...yeah I’m fine but...fuck, just fucking look at them- I can’t...” he trails off, his eyes trained to Niall’s face, watching him so intently that it makes Liam a little nervous. Niall’s biting his lip again, breathing harshly. “Fuck fuck fuck” He pants and then Harry breaths in through his nose so sharply that it’s audible, sinking down onto Niall’s cock and Niall groans from somewhere far in the back of his throat, thick and strangled and it takes Liam a minute to realize that holy shit, Niall is coming. He whimpers as Harry works him through it, not pulling off until Louis walks over and tugs on the back of his shirt. Niall pulls out, still gasping and Louis slaps a hand over Harry’s mouth.
“Swallow.” He orders and Harry does, cringing at the taste, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple eliciting the same response from Liam that it had when he was drinking the vodka. Louis glances up, staring at Liam and Zayn expectantly. ‘Well, who’s next then?”
“Liam?” he suggests and Liam swears that his heart fucking stops. He shakes his head rapidly; stepping backwards slightly and making fumbly gestures with his hands that are somehow supposed to indicate “No, no thank you, nope, not today” but in reality just seem to make him look like an idiot, because Louis and Niall both start laughing and even Harry smiles down at the floor. Liam blushes and wonders if Louis had just expected him to go along, had just expected him to go ‘Oh, alright. Yes, gay blowjob, perfect” and drop trough without a second though.
Apparently so, because that’s all it really takes for Zayn to agree to it. He and Louis make eye contact as Zayn is undoing the button on his pants and they both start softly laughing again, like this situation truly is funny. Liam must be losing his sense of humor or something, because literally everyone else seems to think that this is a good time to be joking around.
“I want you to suck Zayn off just like you did to Niall, Harry.” Louis instructs, taking his hand off of Harry’s mouth “You’re going to let him come in your mouth and you’re going to swallow all of it, yeah?” Harry nods, his chest swelling with each inhale, trying to get his breath back. “How deep do you think you can take him?” Louis’s tone gets breathier, his pitch rising slightly. Harry shrugs, quickly glancing to Zayn, who stands in front of him with his pants and boxers already off and discarded to the side.
Liam’s seen Zayn naked before- hell, he’s seen them all naked before. They were in the same pledge class, him and Zayn and Louis and Niall, and there had been numerous rituals that required them to remove various articles of clothing. But he’s never seen them quite like this- Niall is lying on the couch, looking blissful and out of it, Zayn’s standing over Harry, lazily stroking himself as he watches Louis give Harry instructions. And Louis, fucking /Louis/. If Liam had considered how he normally acted with pledges to be forceful and domineering, he has no idea how to describe this. Louis grabs a handful of hair at the top of Harry’s head, waiting for Harry’s response.
“I…um..I don’t- I don’t know.” Harry pants, biting his lip as he sizes Zayn up. He can barely get the words out, his voice faint and stalled. Liam watches as he drags a hand up his thigh and palms himself through the mesh of his jeans, his hips rolling as he grinds into his hand. He stares at Zayn’s cock, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches Zayn runs his hands up the length of it and when Zayn gets to the top, squeezing at the head so that precome leaks from the tip, Harry gasps, his hips stuttering forward as he keens high in the back of his throat. Zayn looks to Liam, flushed and a bit pleased with himself and there’s a weird feeling in the pit of Liam’s stomach. He’d almost call it jealousy, but that doesn’t make any sense. And even if it was jealousy, he can’t quite figure out who exactly he’s jealous of- Zayn or Harry or maybe even Louis, standing there was a hand still in Harry’s curls, watching Harry touch himself with a look of smug self-satisfaction.
Harry’s hand moves to the waistband of his shorts, his fingertips sliding past the elastic a few inches before Louis reaches down and slaps it away. Harry groans in frustration, tearing his eyes away from Zayn’s dick to look up at Louis with pleading eyes. “Please, please, Louis, I need to come. Just once, please.” Louis shakes his head, which is a marvel in its own right, as Liam can’t see how anyone could ever deny Harry of something like that.
“You’ll come when you’re told.” Louis tells him, his eyes clouding darkly. Harry makes a sound of protest but Louis cuts him off with another sharp pull on his hair. Harry stifles a shout and nods until Louis loosens his grip. “Now go.” He gives a push on the back of Harry’s head and Zayn takes that as his cue to press the head of his cock against Harry’s bruised lips.
Harry doesn’t hesitate this time, just opens his mouth and gets down as far as he can before wrapping his hand around what he can’t get down his throat. Zayn’s thicker than Niall and it takes Harry longer to find a pace that works but he sets into it as soon as he finds it, his eyes screwed shut with concentration and spit dripping down his chin.
Louis asks Zayn how Harry’s doing, trying to sound like he’s teasing. Zayn groans in response. “He’s…fuck, he’s pretty good, actually.” Zayn tells him and Harry pulls off, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth even as he gasps for breath. Liam can tell that the praise meant something and he understands, as weird as that sounds. Louis laughs, watching Harry’s cheeks flush pink at Zayn’s words.
“Almost seems like maybe this isn’t his first time.” He says, his tone mocking. Harry doesn’t answer, just resuming laving over Zayn’s cock, licking a thick stripe up in the underside and sucking wetly at the head. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell the others.” Harry still refuses to respond; instead he closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing past his gag reflex. “How many nights a week do you get fucked like this?” Louis asks, his voice getting higher as he struggles to find the thing that will push Harry’s buttons. “Just weekends? To give yourself some time to recuperate? It’s a wonder you’re ever able to walk, the way you’re such a slut for it-“ Harry’s shoulders tense up and Liam raises a hand to cut Louis off, but Harry does it for him, pulling off of Zayn so that he can speak.
“I’m not.” He gasps. “I’ve never…” he stutters a bit as he realizes that they’re all looking at him, even Niall, who had gathered enough strength to haul himself into a sitting position on the couch. “I’ve never done this to anyone else.” He insists, his eyes widening in earnest. Louis studies him for a moment, holding his gaze much longer than necessary.
“Guess you’ve just got a mouth made for sucking cock, then.” Liam’s face grows hot when he hears Louis say that- it’s just embarrassing now, the way his dick twitches every time Louis makes a crude comment. It isn’t worth it to ignore how aroused he is- he feels like he’s going to pass out of he doesn’t get himself off within the next five minutes. He sees Niall out of the corner of his eye, casually splayed out across the couch with his cock in hand, and god, it wouldn’t be that weird, would it? At least to just strip off some layers because it’s far too hot in Niall’s tiny bedroom.
Harry had gone back to work after his outburst, working his mouth down Zayn’s cock like he had something to prove. Zayn’s gripping Harry’s shoulder, his knuckles bleached mauve from the pressure, and Liam can tell that he’s close. He has to turn away and walked past the two of them towards the couch, stripping off his shirt and beginning to work at his pants. Niall gives a soft wolf whistle, momentarily pulling his attention from the scene in front of him to goad Liam gently. “Take it all off, baby.” He teases, somehow still able to smile, though Liam can’t imagine how. Is he the only one that this situation is weird for?
He sits on the couch, opposite from Niall and Christ; it’s so much easier to breathe now that he doesn’t feel like his shirt is going to suffocate him. He stares at the ceiling and gets a hand around himself, stroking upward and fuck, it’s like he hasn’t touched himself in months , the way he arches into it, pretending like he can’t hear Zayn’s groans, which are becoming increasingly frantic. He pretends to block out the noise Harry makes when he gags and pushes past it, earning a murmur of approval from Louis. Liam looks over just in time to see Zayn curling in on himself, his lips parted and his fingernails digging into the soft skin of Harry’s shoulder as he wordlessly rides the orgasm out. Harry sputters a bit and has to pull off, come dripping out of the corners of his mouth. Louis gives him a pointed look and he swallows, looking up obediently and opening his mouth wide to prove that he got it all down. Louis just smirks and tells him to take his clothes off.
Louis straightens up and looks around, his eyes falling on Liam almost immediately. “Perfect. You’re already undressed.” He says, nudging Harry with his foot and gesturing towards Liam. Liam stutters again, protesting.
“I...wait, no…what about you?” he’s well aware of the pleading tone to his voice and how it’s mostly because he hopes that Louis will shoot down his objection right away. He does, in a typical Louis fashion.
“Oh no.” Louis grins. “I go last.” He looks down at Harry again, who swallows heavily, his shoulders tensing. Liam tries to come up with another weak reason why he can’t do this but by the time he figures one out, Harry’s already between his legs, all wet lips and damp lashes and big green eyes.
“Move up a little, yeah?” he says, motioning for Liam to sit on the edge of the couch cushion. He seems comfortable, sure of himself, even, but his hands are still shaking and his movements are harsh and jittery. Liam bends his head low, closer to Harry.
“Youre doing okay, yeah?.” He whispers, trying to get any sort of gauge on what Harry's situation is.
"Definitely okay." Harry tells him. "Better than ok." And he means it, Liam can see it in his face which opens up all sorts of fun questions about Harry's sexual psyche. But this is clearly no place for that kind of psychoanalysis, especially with the way Harry's got a hand on his chest, urging him to lie back, so he just nods and leans back a little, breathing in to try and stop the nervous hammering of his heart inside his chest. Harry gets him into his mouth and Liam bites at his knuckle to keep from shouting because it’s so, so good, especially with the massive amounts of tension he had been fighting off since this whole thing had began. Harry’s lips do feel as good as they look and what Harry lacks in finesse he makes up for in enthusiasm.
Liam can already tell that he’s not going to last long but he tries- gritting his teeth and scraping his fingernails against the cheap fabric of the couch cushions- but it’s not enough. Harry goes down farther and Liam’s cock hits the back of his throat and it’s enough to make him feel the orgasm building between his hips. Harry moves back up, his tongue dragging over the tip of Liam’s cock and then fuck, yes, fuck that’s it and he grips the arm of the couch to steady himself as he comes, shuddering and biting his lip around a moan.
For a while, he just lets his head loll against the back of the couch, allowing himself to get his breath back. He’s so wrapped up that he doesn’t even notice that Harry doesn’t get up from his place between his legs. He’s leaning forward slightly, his nails digging into the soft skin of Liam’s thighs and he’s got this strange look on his face, like his stomach is hurting, but a good kind of hurt. Liam gathers the strength to lift his head and jumps a bit in suprise when he sees Louis kneeling on the floor behind Harry.
He starts to say something, to ask Louis what the fuck he’s doing, but the question dies halfway out his throat when Louis rotates his wrist, drawing Liam’s attention to it, and then he sees exactly what Louis is doing. He’s got a finger, slick with god-knows-what, in Harry’s arse, his free hand on the small of Harry’s back as he presses in. Liam can feel Harry shuddering against his legs as it slids in with little resistance. “Oh, Harry.” Louis gasps softly, his voice sharp and cruel and surprised. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Harry groans, leaning forward and pressing his face into the crease of Liam’s hip. Liam pets his hair, trying to be reassuring but then Louis slides a second finger into Harry and Harry gasps, laying his teeth into the skin of Liam’s pelvis and Liam instinctively pulls at his hair, more out of surprise than anything else, but that only makes Harry moan louder, rocking back onto Louis’s hand.
Louis is grinning like a madman, working his fingers in and out of Harry at a torturously slow pace. Harry’s whimpering and mouthing at Liam’s bare skin, his hips rolling forward, and the feel of Harry’s hot breath on his hip is enough to make Liam’s cock twich, which is fucking ridiculous considering the fact that he just came a few minutes ago. “Who got here first?” Louis asks, pumping his fingers a bit faster. Harry gasps and shakes his head, his fingers scraping helplessly at the couch cushions as he croaks out “No one. No one, fuck, I-I promise.”
“ He’s probably just fucked himself before.” Niall comments from his perch on the other side of the couch. Louis gapes at him for a second, as though he forgot that he was there. “Y’know..” Niall makes a gesture with his fingers. “So that he’d be ready for…” Niall’s smart enough not to finish the sentence off with “ready for this” because Liam highly doubts that Harry had this kind of situation in mind while fucking himself in the communal showers of the shitty freshman dorms. Harry’s nodding at Niall’s words, twisting himself around so that he can confirm it to Louis. Louis meets him half, leaning forward and draping over Harry’s body with his own. Harry tilts his face upwards so that Louis’s mouth meets the shell of his ear and he works his hand between his torso and the couch, reaching for his cock. Louis whispers something into Harry’s ear, low and dirty, his eyes flickering up to meet Liam’s and a smile splitting his face, the kind that makes Liam feel uneasy. Harry’s flushing at his words, whatever they are, his swollen mouth falling slightly agape as he leans into Louis’s touch, pumping a hand over his own erection, which still remains uncared for. Liam feels a pang of sympathy as he sees just how ridiculously hard Harry is, his cock full and rigid against his stomach. He considers reaching a hand down to help Harry out, but he knows that Louis wouldn’t approve.
Louis removes his fingers, still wet with what Liam figures to be lube, and grabs Harry’s hips, grinding himself into Harry’s backside. Harry moans and adjusts his stance, spreading his knees farther apart and pushing back against Louis just as strongly. “Such a slut .” Louis mutters approvingly. Liam looks up to see Zayn standing off to the side, now completely naked. He gives Liam a thumbs up and a faint smile, which Liam weakly reciprocates, until Harry bites him again and he shouts, his hip aching.
Louis leans back, slapping Harry on the arse in a quick upward swipe, leaving an angry red mark on the pale skin. Harry winces but doesn’t say a word, just shoots Liam an apologetic look that quickly dissolves into another stuttering moan as Louis reaches around and gets a hand on his cock. Liam feels the couch sink a bit as Niall scoots closer, giving Zayn room to sit on the end. Liam desperately wants to look at one of them, just to gauge how things are going, but he can’t catch their eyes. They’re both watching as Louis gets Harry off, pressing sloppy, half-drunk kisses from his shoulders up his neck, pulling away to reveal red splotches that Harry will have to hide from his roommate and the other brothers tomorrow. Louis presses his mouth to the shell of Harry's ear again, slowing the movement of his hand and breathing heavily. "Do you want to do this?" he asks, so softly that Liam almost doesn't catch it. Harry nods frantically, chewing on his lower lip and keeping his eyes downcast. "Are you sure? You can leave if you want. I wouldn't want...we're not like that." Louis assures, his voice still tight but less forceful, less intimidating. Harry nods again, more steady.
"Yes, yes, I do, I promise, just- fuck, please, christ-" he tells Louis through clenched teeth. He turns his head enough to meet Louis’s mouth and then they’re kissing, really kissing, wet and open-mouthed and a bit desperate, and normally Liam would panic because that’s when things are supposed to get gay, right, when people start kissing? But then he remembers the whole circumstance- that Harry had just blown them one right after another with his hand on his own dick the whole time and now he’s probably going to let them fuck him that way too- and Liam realizes that this had been pretty fucking gay right from the start, before Louis shoved his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry’s moans start dying halfway out his throat and he’s fucking up roughly into Louis’s fist, gasping hoarsely every time Louis palms at the head of his cock. He comes a few seconds later, spurting up onto his stomach and some of it dripping down onto Louis’s hand.
Louis’s got an arm around Harry’s middle, holding him upright so that he won’t collapse on the floor in a quivering mess. He lifts his hand to Harry’s mouth, his fingers slick with Harry’s own come, crooning softly for Harry to open his mouth and his eyes and Harry obeys without a moment of hesitation, sucking his come off of Louis’s fingers and looking to the three of them sitting on the couch, his eyes dazed and glassy. Niall and Zayn are already hard again, both of them idly stroking themselves as they watch, and Harry takes notice right away, his breath hitching as he watches them hungrily and when his eyes move past Zayn, Liam puts a hand on his own cock, already half-hard against his thigh. There’s a weird sense of embarrassment that he’s not hard yet, like it will offend Harry or something. He squeezes at the base and feels the blood pulsing underneath the thin layer of skin, precome smearing against his thigh as his cock twitches. Harry’s still watching, his eyes flickering between the three of them like he’s sizing them up. Louis removes his fingers from Harry’s mouth while whispering something in his ear and Harry swallows nervously, a new flush of pink creeping down his neck, before nodding slowly. Louis smirks and turns to Zayn and Niall.
“We’re going to need the couch.” He explains and Liam has never seen Niall move faster than when he scrambles off the couch and onto his bed that lies parallel to it. Zayn follows, his movements slow and shaky, like he’s walking in a dream. Liam moves to stand, but he’s met with Harry’s large hand against his chest. “No, you stay.” Louis tells him as he moves to the end of the couch previously occupied by Zayn, stretching out in a very cat-like manner before lying down, his head separated from the arm rest by a couch pillow. Somewhere along the way, and Liam can’t really pinpoint where, Louis had managed to discard his pants and boxers and now they’re all naked and shit, there’s no denying it now- this is really, really gay. Before Liam can really agree to anything, Harry’s clambering over Louis’s legs, pressing his face into the dip of Louis’s pelvis, his arse facing Liam, who just stares at it, stammering. He figured that it was going to come to this eventually but it had seemed so far off and fuck, to be honest, there was still a part of him that had been convinced that Louis would have called the whole thing off by now.
“What…” It’s the only word Liam can choke out and he doesn’t even phrase it like a question, just a low sigh of bewilderment. He gets up on his knees behind Harry, trying to ignore the way Harry rocks back into him, how his fingers curl around Harry’s hips like its second nature. And then suddenly Harry’s ducking his head, sinking down onto Louis’s cock and Louis makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, his hand curling around to cup the back of Harry’s neck, pushing down, and he bites his lip around a smile when he hears Harry gag.
He makes eye contact with Liam over the length of Harry’s back and Louis points his finger to a vague spot of the floor. ‘Lube…lube’s over there.” Liam leans over, grasping for it blindly before finally snagging it, snapping the lid up. His hands are shaking and what the hell is he even supposed to do with this, for god’s sake?
‘What do I…” he stutters, hoping Louis’s not too far gone to give him some kind of instruction.
“You just put it all over your dick and - oh, Harry - and, uh, fuck, just make sure there’s enough and- God - yeah just make sure to go slow and-“Louis can’t finish, his voice fading out into a moan. Liam can’t help but hesitate- those were pretty subpar directions and he’s just never done this before and the last thing he wants is to hurt Harry in any way. He’s afraid to push in now, while Harry’s sucking Louis off, in fear that it’ll be hard for Harry to handle but that’s the point, isn’t it? For it to be way too much and for Harry to take all of it anyways. He manages to slick himself up without much trouble, dripping lube all over the couch cushions and fuck, Niall’s going to kill him for that. He gets a hand on the small of Harry’s back, holding his dick with the other and tentatively pressing it against Harry’s hole. Harry’s whole body flinches in response and Liam suspects he accidentally used some teeth because Louis swears loudly and pulls hard at the hair on the nape of his neck.
He’s too freaked out to try again so for a moment he just stays there, not sure what to do. And then he hears Zayn, sounding like he’s a million miles away even though he can’t be more than five feet from him. “Go on.” He says and Christ, Zayn has that raspy sex voice thing going on, too and that’s hot, that’s really, really hot, Liam thinks. Niall chimes in too- “Yeah, c’mon Liam. Just do it.” in the same way that Liam and Zayn encouraged him earlier in the night. Niall’s red-faced and breathless and he just seems so interested in it, in a funny way, like half the reason he wants Liam to do it is just so that he gets a chance to see how it really works.
Liam looks to Zayn, catching his eye almost immediately and Zayn says “I want to see you do it.” and all the blood that was lingering in Liam’s brain floods straight to his cock and all his reasoning goes with it. He positions himself again, can feel the heat of Louis’s gaze on him as he pushes in, as slow as he possibly can.
“Oh, my god.” Harry gasps softly, his voice husky and small and completely wrecked. Liam wishes he could see his face because it means something to him, the fact that he’s the first one to ever do this with Harry and he wants to see him bite his lip and gasp hoarsely and come apart from it. He has to hold himself from pushing in all at once, because Harry's so fucking tight and it feels so good, too good, almost, like it's going to make him faint. He hears Niall whimpering and Zayn saying something to him, low and sweet and Liam thinks they might be kissing. Harry's pulled off of Louis, but Louis's got him by the chin so that he can watch his face. Liam sinks in a bit more, his blunt nails digging into Harry's lower back, because he's already light-headed and close. Louis tells Harry to keep his eyes open.
“So much more than you’re used to, right?” Louis asks, reaching down to tug at Harry’s curls. “So much bigger.” And Harry nods, whimpering as Liam pushes in another inch. “But you’re so good, taking it all for us. We all want to fuck you so badly, Haz. Wanna give you what you deserve.” Liam bottoms out and Harry’s shaking, writhing madly underneath him like he’s trying to break out of his skin.
Overstimulation- that’s the only word Liam can think of to describe it, for both of them. Louis nods at him, says “You can move, you know.” and Liam grabs hold of Harry’s hips again, pulling out slightly and pushing back in, relief flooding his chest when Harry sighs and grinds back into him. He moves in gradually increasing thrusts, constantly reminding himself to resist the urge to fuck Harry into the couch cushions. Once they have a steady rhythm going Harry goes back down on Louis, Louis gripping the back of his neck so that he can fuck his mouth roughly. Harry keeps coughing and gagging but Louis doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, Liam’s pretty sure it does something for him, because pretty soon, he’s pulling Harry off, telling him to stay still while he jacks himself off. Liam’s hips start snapping forward when Louis begins gasping roughly and Liam realizes what he’s going to do. He didn’t even know facials were a thing for him but he feels his balls clench tight when Harry turns his head and Liam can see Louis’s come smeared across his cheeks, dripping down towards his chin.
“Talk to him, Li.” Louis orders, running his fingers through the mess on Harry’s face. Liam gapes for a few seconds- he’s not sure what he’s supposed to say and the only sounds he can really think of forming right now are probably not recognized as words in the English language. He angles his hips slightly and then he can feel the head of his cock knock against something inside Harry and his nerves are shot to hell because fuck, is that even supposed to happen? But Harry cries out so loudly that for a second Liam is worried that someone downstairs will hear them, and he grinds his arse back against Liam’s hips shamelessly.
“You like it like that, huh?” it’s the only phrase he can really think of, the only phrase that fits, really, and he says it through gritted teeth, trying to stave off his impending orgasm but it makes the words come out harsher and rougher than he meant. Harry nods frantically, biting that fucking lower lip and moaning “Yessss…” , looking Liam dead in the eye, his pupils blow with lust and fuck, that’s it, Liam’s done. His hips lose their rhythm as he thrusts unevenly, his fingers digging bruises into Harry’s skin, coming hard enough that he sees stars behind his lids. He doesn’t bother to pull out, but it seems right to do that, somehow, like he’s marking Harry as his own.
He’s barely conscience to the outside world after, falling onto his back in an orgasm-induced haze. His limbs feel all heavy, like it’d literally be impossible to move them if he tried and his brain’s gone foggy. Nothing’s better than this, the way he feels after a really amazing fuck, all heady and feverish and languid, like his bones are made of rubber. He hears the sounds of messy kissing and skin against skin on the other end of the couch, but he’s too exhausted to crane his neck and see who it is. He hears Zayn muttering “Oh fuck.” a few times and then there’s more sloppy kissing and the low buzz of Louis whispering something filthy into Harry’s ear.
He can’t bring himself to move from the couch, so he watches from it as they all move to the bed, tripping over each other’s feet. It takes some fumbling but Niall ends up kneeling in front of Harry, between his legs, and takes a minute to kiss Harry clumsily before pushing into him. Liam didn’t even know that guys could have sex facing each other like that and it makes him wonder how exactly Niall knew how to do it without Louis barking instructions in his ear. Niall’s already worked himself up so much that he’s close within the first couple minutes, panting heavily. “Come on his chest.” Louis orders and Niall shoots him a look but does what he says anyways, pulling out (a little too quickly, judging by the way Harry winces) and fucking into his fist until he’s there, spurting onto Harry’s stomach. Harry twitches at the contact and it must be weird, Liam thinks, having come on your skin that isn’t your own. But Harry doesn’t really have time to think about it because Zayn elbows Niall of the way and grabs at Harry’s hips, flipping him onto his stomach.
He fucks Harry the same way Liam did, but he’s harsher and less careful than Liam was, reaching around to work at Harry’s cock as he pushes into him. Liam manages to haul himself off of the couch and climb onto the bed, sitting between Niall and Louis on the side not occupied by Harry’s lanky frame. He watches the end of it, his hands clasped tight around his ankles to keep him from reaching out and touching either of them, because he’s not quite sure if that’s allowed. They’re both coming within seconds of each other, Harry’s release triggering Zayn’s and after he pulls out, Harry lets his body drop the bed heavily, smiling and blissed out and so obviously pleased with himself.
“Do you think you’re done or something?” Louis snarls, crawling up to take Zayn’s place and flipping Harry onto his back again. Harry freezes up for a second, propped up on his elbows, but Louis doesn’t give him time to think before he’s shoving him back onto the bed, his hand firm in the center of his chest. Niall shifts his weight on the bed and immediately, Liam and Zayn look to him. All he does is raise his eyebrows and clear his throat and when they all look back, Louis is already thrusting inside Harry, working up a rhythm. Liam can see Harry get hard again, his cock stiffening against his stomach every time Louis gets himself a little deeper. Louis works up to it, but Harry’s already so fucked out and wet that it’s so easy to go into him a little faster, a little harder. Liam’s watching Harry’s face for any signs of discomfort but he seems fine- more than fine, really, especially when he gets a hand around his dick, jacking himself off roughly like a horny schoolboy aching for friction.
“Stop it.” Louis rasps. He lifts a hand to move Harry’s wrist but almost loses his balance, planting his hand back on to the bed to steady himself. Harry ignores him, working over his flushed cock with quick, frantic strokes, his breath quickening. “I- fuck- someone hold his hands.” Louis snaps and Zayn, sitting closest to the head board, immediately reaches down and grabs Harry’s wrists, pinning them up against the pillows. Harry cries out, twisting his body upwards only to have his hips shoved back down to the mattress by Louis’s quick hands. “Just take it. Just fucking take what you’re given.” Louis growls, his nails digging little crescents into Harry’s pale skin and his thrusts quickening, the rhythmic thumping of the headboard hitting the wall growing increasingly audible.
Harry nods, his curls mussing against the pillow. “Okay.” He can barely get the word out, his voice is so gone. “Okay. Yeah, god, yeah, fucking give it to me, Louis.” And he doesn’t need to say it twice.
Louis doubles into it, fucking him so hard that Liam’s afraid he’s going to break Harry in half or something. Harry’s breathing in short, strangled bursts, the air getting knocked out of him with every thrust, and he hooks his ankles together behind Louis’s back to keep him in deep. Zayn moves his hands to press Harry’s palms to the mattress, not wanting to cut off circulation in his wrists and Harry grabs at Zayn’s hands with trembling fingers, clutching them for what little support they can provide as Louis fucks into him mercilessly. Louis must be doing something right, because Harry gasps and tilts his head back into the pillows, baring his neck to them, already splotchy with bruises and fading bite marks. Liam thinks to lean down and kiss at it but Niall gets there first, one hand tracing at Harry’s jaw line and the other bracing himself against the pillows, so Liam settles for running a hand down Harry’s chest, petting at the scratch marks and hickeys left by the others before him.
Harry wails a bit, trying to curl in on himself despite his restraints, and Louis nods as though it’s a sound he understands, readjusting his grip on Harry’s hips, trying to keep the angle right. Four more thrusts and Harry’s there, two weak shots of come spurting onto his stomach as he chokes out a sob and next time, Liam thinks, maybe they can try for a fourth orgasm and see if Harry drips at all and oh fuck that’s sick, the fact that he’s thinking of a next time at all.
He expects Louis to let up a bit after that because Harry’s wrecked, and understandably so. His whole body goes slack; his hands are limp in Zayn’s grip and his legs fall open, his ankle and calf dangling off the side of the bed. But Louis doesn’t slow down, just keeps pounding into Harry with his teeth digging into his own lower lip so hard that Liam thinks he might draw blood. He doesn’t even change the angle, just keeps rubbing against that spot that makes Harry squirm and cry out and pretty soon, Harry’s tensing up again, his eyes wide and watering and a bit panicked. Liam’s ready to ask Louis to call it quits but then Louis asks “Is it too much?” , as though he read Liam’s mind, his voice cracking so badly that Liam can only barely make out what he’s saying.
Harry shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘Tell me when.” Louis says and Harry nods, arching his back off the bed and then, fuck, he’s gasping again, breaking out into frantic little wheezes and his head is thrashing against the pillow as he struggles again against Zayn’s hands. Louis does something , Liam has no clue what, and Harry manages to roll his hips up before falling back against the mattress, which only serves to push Louis further inside of him. Louis thrusts again and then Harry’s sobbing, not just one but several wracking sobs all in a row. Liam swears he sees tears and Harry’s cries are about a decibel away from turning into screams and it’s then that Louis asks again ‘Is it too much?” and oh thank God, Harry’s nodding, wailing “Yes, yes,” and, like someone flipped a switch, Louis comes, his lids fluttering as his eyes roll back to the whites.
++
No one says anything at first. Louis pulls out, limbs shaking, and Harry keens softly, clenching around the sudden emptiness. Louis doesn’t even bother moving from his spot, just rolls over so that he’s half in the space next to Harry, half draped over Liam and Niall’s laps and they both move back as far as they can without falling off the other end of the bed. Zayn releases Harry’s hands and moves his arms back down into their normal position, rubbing at his shoulder joints to decrease any ache. Harry’s still wheezing a bit, loudly enough that Niall leans over and half-jokingly asks Liam if they should go see if they can find an inhaler for him or something. It shouldn’t be so funny, but it is, and Liam’s laughing so hard that tears prick at his eyes. Louis swats at his foot weakly but it’s all he can really manage and somehow, that’s funny too. Niall beckons Zayn over and they’re all in a row, watching Louis and Harry recuperate.
“Our babies.” Zayn coos sarcastically and Niall turns to him with an incredulous expression.
“Dude, that’s gay.” He deadpans and immediately starts laughing to himself because leave it to Niall to make a joke about a gangbang two minutes after it had just ended. He braces his hands on the comforter and somehow places his palm on a come stain, still wet on the comforter. “God damnit, my sheets .” he sighs and god damnit doesn’t even begin to cover it. There’s lube and come and sweat smeared everywhere, making the whole room smell like sex and Liam can see the wet spot growing where Harry’s leaking out onto the bed. “No one’s ever going to believe that I jizzed this much all in one night.” Niall laments, wiping his hand off on his thigh.
Getting Harry into some kind of presentable state is their priority, Liam decides, and Niall runs into his bathroom to get a shower running while Liam and Zayn try to maneuver Harry off the bed with minimal disturbances to Louis. They carry him into the bathroom, his head resting on Liam’s shoulder. Liam can feel his eyelashes against his neck as Harry opens his eyes. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, just to take a quick check of the situation. Harry nods a bit, closing his eyes again.
“Well fucked.” He sighs and Zayn makes a comment about how that’s probably the best response they could hope for. They get him into the tub, where there’s already a warm shower going and Liam wets a washcloth, wiping at Harry’s chest. It’s such a familiar act to Liam- he’s washed and been washed by the others countless times, when one or two of them had gotten sick or spilled a drink all over themselves and had been too pissed to clean themselves up. And now that’s he’s doing it to Harry, after what Harry just did for them, or let them do to him- it seems right, like it’s an initiation, like Harry’s earned it. He’s an absolute mess, of course- there’s come on his face and caked into his fringe, dried on his chest and stomach in large splotches and still dripping out of him between his legs. Beside Liam, Niall grabs a half-empty bottle of shampoo and squirts some into his hand, working it through Harry’s matted curls with some difficulty. Zayn goes back into the room to check on Louis and comes back moments later, supporting the boy in question with an arm around his shoulders.
“Look at you.” Louis smirks, still himself with all his strength stripped away. “You’ve already got them all attending to you.” Liam sees that Louis has a pair of boxers on now, while the rest of them are stark naked. The last one naked and the first one with clothing on- typical Louis. Probably a control thing, just like everything else.
“I’d damn well say I deserved it.” Harry quips softly, tilting his head back to let Niall wash the filth out of his hair. He quirks one eye open, to study Louis. ‘Did I do well?” he asks and Liam bites back a chuckle. Louis shrugs as much as he can. Liam suspects he might’ve thrown his shoulder out.
“You did alright.” He concludes before allowing Zayn to lead him back into the bedroom. Harry settles back against the tub, looking pleased.
“I did alright.” He says smugly as Niall washes the last of the shampoo out of his hair. They towel him off and hurry back to the bedroom, where Zayn and Louis are already dressed in pairs of Niall’s boxers and asleep, one on each end of the couch. The bed was now fitted with a pair of clean sheets, the soiled set tossed into a corner. Niall rifles through his drawers, pulling out clean clothes for all of them and they change. The room still reeks of sex, but at least now it’s sex and shampoo, which is slightly less offensive.
Before he stumbles into bed with Harry and Niall, he remembers to grab the bottle of Goose from between the couch cushions and set it on the coffee table, to provide a half-assed excuse for when they all wake up in the morning. But for now, he’s content to clamber onto the bed, punching Harry in the leg in order to acquire a space large enough to comfortably lie out, and surrender himself to the tendrils of fucked-out, half-drunk sleep, the best and most restful kind there is.
fandom: one direction
pairing: ot5, harry/everyone
rating/words: NC-17/~10,700
warnings: fraternity AU, unprotected sex, dubcon, hair pulling, comeplay, gagging, choking, generally rough sex, oversensitivity
summary: Louis' notorious for this kind of behavior, for taking the humiliation just a little too far, but that's why he's the fraternity Chaplain. The pledges are terrified of him so he's able to keep them in line.
EDIT 01/08/13: The version below is a bit of a re-write from the original that was posted to the kinkmeme. The big changes/revisions focused on lessening a lot of the dubcon that was present in the original--but please note that there still is dubcon in this version! It mostly stems from the power dynamics but it is there, though certainly not as prominent as it was in the original kinkmeme version. Other than that, the fic remains more or less the same (even the ending, which is still absolutely terrible and that I swear I'll fix one day). Thanks for checking it out!
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“Drink up, Haz.” Louis has the bottom of the bottle of Goose placed over his groin, angling the neck of the bottle into the pledge’s mouth. Harry parts his lips slightly, getting the rim into his mouth and tilting his head, attempting to drink from it. Louis angles it downwards, trying to press it in farther. “Well, don’t take just the tip.” He taunts, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Harry’s curls. Harry hesitates, giving a sidelong glance to Zayn, Niall and Liam who are standing behind Louis, to his right. Zayn is silent, watching what’s happening with even breath, though Liam could probably attribute that to the blunt that had gotten passed around earlier. Liam shrugs, trying to look disinterested and Niall just laughs, like he always does when Louis gets to tormenting the pledges like this. Louis’s notorious for this kind of behavior, for taking the humiliation just a little too far, but that’s why he’s the fraternity Chaplain. The pledges are terrified of him so he’s able to keep them in line.
Liam can’t remember him ever taking things this far, though. He’s messed with pledges before, some of them so badly that they dropped out of the rush- but Liam doesn’t think he’s ever been as attached to any other pledge as he is to Harry. But Liam gets it- they’re all a little fixated on him. Liam had taken him for a shoe-in the very first day of rush- he was a legacy, his dad and three uncles already having passed through the house. Of course, there’s no denying it, Harry’s good looking, with features so precise that Liam would be tempted to call him pretty. He was charming and smarmy, with a hint of a maniac energy zipping below the surface. He was a little overeager, sure, but they all were, when they first came in. That was part of it- if the brothers couldn’t tell right away that you wanted to be in the house, you’d never get past the first round.
Liam must be drunker than he thinks because he honestly can’t remember how they got like this- all five of them in Niall’s room, with Louis more or less ordering Harry to simulate a blowjob using a bottle of vodka. There’s a ritual going on downstairs- Liam can hear the other brothers screaming obscenities at the pledges- and Harry had looked so relieved when Liam had tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him to step away from the group. He searches Harry’s face now, trying to see if there’s a glimpse of that relief still there. As Liam suspected, it’s long gone, now replaced with a mixture of terror and tentative excitement. He keeps look back to the rest of them, constantly double checking to make sure it’s not a joke. To be honest, Liam doesn’t even know anymore. He keeps expecting Louis to step away, to lightly smack Harry on the cheek with a teasing smile and tell him to get the fuck back downstairs. But the seconds keep on passing and his hand is still tight in Harry’s hair and Liam’s stomach begins to sink because oh no he means it this time but Liam isn’t even sure what “it” is.
“C’mon.” Louis urges, smiling cruelly as Harry opens his mouth, allowing him to push the bottle neck further in. It’s difficult to watch without getting hard- Harry’s got lips like a girl, full and wet and red, and Liam swears he’s not gay but he can’t stop staring as Harry opens his mouth a bit wider to fit the glass neck in. He gags almost immediately and tries to pull off but Louis still has a hand on his head, forcing him to stay down. He chokes again, struggling against Louis’s grip. “Breath through it.” Louis orders and Harry looks to the rest of them with wild eyes before Louis tightens his grip in his hair. “I said fucking breathe, Styles.” Harry gags a third time but breathes in sharply through his nose right after it passes, closing his eyes. Louis is having fun with it, almost too much, Liam would say. “Keep going. This is being counted as part of your rush” He mutters down to Harry, readjusting his hand on the bottle.
For a split second, Liam worries that he’ll lose his grip and that the bottle will fall and shatter everywhere, wasting at least a cup of good vodka, but then Harry looks to him again, his eyes desperate and watering, that damn mouth stretched around the neck of the bottle, and Liam realizes that the bottle breaking is the least of his worries right now. He looks to Niall and Zayn, trying to determine what kind of reaction he should be having to this. Niall is smiling, but it’s not a real smile- Liam can tell. It wavers at the corners and his hands are motionless at his sides. Staying still is a feat in and of itself for Niall, unless he’s either incredibly uncomfortable or extremely engrossed. Liam suspects that, right now, it’s a combination of both.
Louis stops thrusting the bottle into Harry’s mouth, but doesn’t pull it out just yet. He keeps the rim of it between Harry’s lips and tips it up slowly, the alcohol spilling out. Harry swallows, and Liam stares, transfixed, as Harry’s Adam’s apple bobs with the movement of his throat. He’s aware of his cock half-hard in his jeans but this whole situation feels like it’s happening to someone else- he’s too distracted to think about what his arousal might mean. Beside him, Niall folds his arms over his chest, his eyes wide and unblinking with rapt fascination as he watches Louis pull the bottle away and screw the cap on, tossing it onto the couch behind Harry. Louis turns and sees them all staring, silent and saucer-eyed and he laughs. God, of all the things he could do, he fucking laughs, loud and piercing and wild. Liam weakly hopes for a moment that this is when the joke stops and they send Harry back downstairs but he knows it won’t be that easy. Louis’s too wound up at this point; he’d never dare back down now. Harry is still kneeling before him, staring up at him with a look so obedient that it’s almost erotic. Louis glances down, running a hand through Harry’s curls before grabbing onto a handful of them tightly, quickly yanking upwards as hard as he dares. Liam hears Zayn inhale sharply as Harry cries out, his spine lengthening and his hands clutching at Louis’s thighs as he tries to keep his balance. And Liam really, really, really wishes that he was sitting down right now because that cry made him painfully hard and all he really wants right now is a pillow to place over his lap.
Louis looks to each of them, his gaze lingering and Liam feels his face burning hot when Louis stares at him, like somehow Louis can tell how much they all love it. He must know, though. If any one of them had been disgusted, they would’ve told him to stop or walked out by now. He supposes that it’s partially just because none of them wanted to look weak. The situation only becomes weird if one of them decides to make it weird, right? As long as they just stand there and don’t get hard, it’s just them watching Louis fuck around with a pledge, the kind of thing they’ve watched a million time. But Liam’s already failing on one of those counts and a quick glance downward towards Niall’s hips tells him that he’s not the only one.
Louis’s eyes flicker downward for a fraction of a second, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he looks back to Harry before Liam has anytime to defend himself. He glances at Zayn, who catches his eye and shrugs slightly as if to say, ‘Well what can we do?” Once Harry really starts to get uncomfortable, Louis will stop, Liam knows he will. Louis is a maniac, not a monster. There’s always the possibility that Harry won’t ever say stop, but Liam pushes it aside, refuses to acknowledge it. Because as long as it’s a power play- as long as it’s Louis dominating an unwilling Harry- then that’s fine, that’s normal, that’s a pledge ritual. But once Harry starts giving it to him, once he falls back into submission- then that’s a different beast, one that Liam can’t quite bring himself to face.
Louis turns back to Harry, tugging on his hair again, hard enough to make it hurt but not strongly enough to drag Harry from his knees. Harry whimpers softly, bracing himself against Louis’s legs, but never closing or lowering his eyes. He stares up at Louis, gritting his teeth against the ache. “Harry.” Louis begins evenly, his voice impressively steady. Liam can see where his tendons flex against his inner wrist and fuck, there’s something so hot about that, watching the muscles strain against the tanned skin. “Harry, how badly do you want to join this fraternity?” That makes Liam want to scream because this is so far beyond rush, this isn’t a fucking frat game anymore, even he’s willing to admit that.
But Harry nods as much as he can with Louis still holding onto his hair. “So badly.” He mutters and heat coils deep in Liam’s stomach as he hears how wrecked Harry sounds. No one’s even touched him like that but he already looks well fucked- flush creeps from his cheeks down his neck and across his chest, he’s breathing hard with pupils blown wide. And there’s no denying it- the way he says it- “so badly”- the words dripping off that obscene lower lip- it’s sexual in a way that’s almost ominous. Liam’s so hard that he could cry and he might, if this continues without any real payoff- and fuck, he has to stop himself because he never considered himself the type who would want payoff from something like this.
“What would you do?” Louis asks Harry, tilting his head upwards even more, so that Harry’s staring Louis right in the face. “What are you willing to do to get in?” Niall turns to Liam, more than slightly alarmed.
“He’s just fuckin’ with him, right?” Niall whispers, nervously glancing from Liam to Louis. “like..he’s not…we’re not…fuck, it’s just a joke, Louis’s just being a dick, yeah?” Liam gives a vague head movement- not quite a shake but certainly not a nod either. He stays silent, mostly because he’s more interested in Harry’s response.
Harry takes a second, swallows heavily. “Anything.” Harry nods again, breathing deeply. “I’d do anything.” Liam’s stomach clenches so tightly that he gasps a little.
"Alright, pledge." Louis bites out, letting go of Harry's hair and Harry sinks to his knees again, gasping, his hands shaking on his thighs. Louis looks down on him, steely-eyed. "You've proved yourself, you're free to go." Liam feels an unexpected drop in the pit of his stomach, something almost like disappointment, which doesn't make any sense because five minutes ago he was silently pleading with Harry to get up and leave. He glances to Zayn who just shrugs, biting on his thumbnail.
Harry's still staring up at Louis with that same reverent look that manages to be sexy and creepy at the same time. And Louis, to his credit, hasn't moved an inch either, hands twitching at his side, like he's not sure what to do. "I'm serious, Styles. You can leave, it's fine." This seems to snap Harry somewhat, because he blinks rapidly and chokes on an inhale of breath and nods, starting to get up.
"Unless--" Louis drawls and Harry sits back almost immediately. Liam could probably punch Louis if he could gather enough feeling in his legs. Unless what? "Unless you don't want to go." There's a collective gasp/choke/groan from Liam, Niall and Zayn.
Harry stutters for second, eyes going all wide and pretty. "W--what do you mean?"
Louis snorts, his fingers grazing Harry's chin. "I think you mean exactly what I mean."
Judging by his soft moan, yes, Harry does knows exactly what Louis means.
"But it won't be a pledge thing. It won't be hazing. If you want this, we'll give it to you--but only if you really want it, not because you're trying to impress us."
Niall leans over towards Zayn and Liam, swallowing heavily. "What's 'it'?" he asks softly, his fingers digging hard into the couch armrest.
"Y'know--" Zayn makes a quick jerk-off motion and Niall's eyes go wide.
"So--what'll it be?" Louis says, his hand still resting lightly on Harry's jaw. Harry looks to Louis for a long moment, then looks to the three of them and Liam can't believe how dark his eyes are, how flushed he is.
"Yeah." Harry finally says. "Yeah, I want it."
"You sure?" Louis presses, drawing his hand back for a second. "We won't be mad if you say no."
"Yes." Harry repeats, his voice cracking. "Yes I'm sure."
And there’s that dangerous smile parting Louis’s lips. He’s flushed too, and trembling a bit, but Liam can’t tell why, because Louis never gets nervous, especially when he’s in control. He releases his hold on Harry and Harry sighs gratefully, sinking onto the back of his knees. His hair sticks out wildly where Louis was grabbing it and on anyone else it would look ridiculous, but Harry pulls it off with the dazed look of someone who just gotten bent over a table. Louis glances up, looking to all three of them again before holding out his hand and beckoning to Niall. “C’mon.” he says. Niall hesitates, looking to Zayn and then to Liam. “Niall.” Louis repeats, sterner this time. “Come here.” Niall obeys, because whether they’ll admit it or not, when Louis says jump, they all say “how high?”
Louis grabs Niall by the belt and drags him closer, his hand slipping down to work at the buckle but Niall jumps back before he can make any real progress. ‘What the fuck, man?!” Niall cries, so completely bewildered with what’s happening that makes Liam ache. Niall’s gasping for air, his hands suddenly animated once again- clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“He said anything.” Louis says, as though the answer is as simple as that. “You’re not turning down a blow job, are you?” Harry makes a muffled noise at Louis’s words, somewhere between a groan and a choke but Louis doesn’t even grant him a look. Niall’s still wary, looking to Zayn and Liam for help. Liam doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know what he wants to say. But it turns out that he doesn’t need to, because Zayn says it for him.
“Go on, Niall.” Zayn tells him, the first real words Liam’s heard him say since they came up here. Niall stares at him, slack jawed. “Just…just..It’ll be fine, Niall. Go on.” He repeats, nodding a bit and Liam knows him well enough to be able to hear when there’s a lump in his throat. Zayn catches his eye and moves closer to him, nodding slightly and Liam finds himself nodding back.
“Yeah, do it, Niall.” His words sound foreign in his ears and he can’t stop staring at Zayn as he says them. He can’t believe what he’s saying but it doesn’t weird him out as much as it probably should, encouraging this kind of behavior. “It’ll…it’ll be…” he’s not sure how to fill in that gap. It’ll be funny? It’ll be hot? Because originally it was just for laughs but now Liam’s sure that’s not the case. Niall stares at him for a few long moments before nodding and looking down to work at his belt. Liam feels a tinge of anger- of course Louis would pick Niall to be the first, Niall trusts all of them too much to say no- but that’s soon replaced by another curl of heat between his hips as Niall pulls his cock out. It’s hard and full, already wet at the tip. Liam’s a bit relived, to tell the truth, that he wasn’t the only one with that reaction. Harry’s face has flushed even darker, if that were possible and it’s only when he reaches up to fix his fringe that Liam notices that his hands are shaking terribly. Louis grabs Niall by the sleeve and pulls him in front of Harry.
“You said anything.” Louis asserts, holding his gaze. .
“Alright.” Harry breathes, more to himself than anyone else. “Alright. Yeah. Okay.” He looks at Niall’s cock with bewilderment, like he’s not quite sure what to do with it and Liam thinks (Liam prays) that he’ll make the smart move and pussy out, but he just inhales again and wraps a hand around Niall. Niall tenses, inhaling sharply through his nose and a groan slips out, little by little, as Harry takes him into his mouth. And fuck it if Liam doesn’t have to look away because it’s too much- Louis, Niall, Harry (god, Harry) - it’s too damn much and all it was supposed to be was a fucking frat game.
It becomes quite clear within the first few seconds that Harry has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He watches Niall the whole time, sucking around the head of his cock, his hand squeezing around the rest of Niall’s length. “Deeper, Styles.” Louis orders, though his voice has gone from bossy to slightly strained. But Harry obeys. Two words out of Louis’s mouth and Harry sinks down, taking Niall into his mouth properly. For a second, Liam allows himself to wonder if Harry’s lips feel as good as they look like they would and whether or not he’s going to get the chance to find out.
He wonders if it’s weird for Harry, to have the three of them watching this. For the most part, Harry keeps his eyes closed or angled up at Niall, watching his face for signs of approval. Liam stays off to the side, keeping close to Zayn because they’re the ones who got Niall into this in the first place and he feels a sense of responsibility now.
Niall moans again, letting his head loll to the side as he bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut. He mumbles something intelligible and unconsciously jerks his hips forward, thrusting into Harry’s mouth deeper than he can take. Harry’s eyes fly open as he chokes and pulls off, gasping, though he keeps his hand working clumsily at Niall’s length. “Sorry.” Niall mutters sheepishly, but Harry just gives a small laugh, still out of breath.
“’s fine.” He says and takes Niall in again, allowing Niall to rest a hand on the back of his head. Liam can see the bulge in Harry’s cheek as he presses the head of Niall’s cock against the inside of his mouth and he’d snicker, if the situation could permit it, because god, that’s such a porn thing to do. He watches Harry’s mouth, hypnotized by the sight of him sinking down further onto Niall and pulling off, leaving the length of skin shiny and wet. Liam’s desperate for any kind of friction- the fabric of his boxers against his cock isn’t enough- but he crosses his arms over his chest, refusing to allow himself to actively take pleasure from this. Louis is going to have to drag him into it kicking and screaming, and the longer he listens to Niall’s gasps, the more he hopes that Louis will.
Niall loses his rhythm and thrusts too deeply again, but his hand on the back of Harry’s head prevents him from pulling off, forcing him to go deeper and he gags violently, his eyes watering. It takes all the self control Liam has to not touch himself because it’s so fucking hot, the fact that Harry can’t do anything, the fact that he has to sit there and just take it, take whatever they give him. “You can puke on Niall, if you need to.” Louis taunts, and Niall is too gone to act disgusted. He nods furiously instead- ‘Yeah, yeah, you can, Harry- fuck, that would be kind of hot, actually.” To Liam’s right, Zayn keens softly and Liam looks over to see him biting nervously at the skin around his thumbnail.
“You alright?” Liam asks him, even though he knows that Zayn isn’t. They’re about to gangbang pledge, if Liam is accurately gauging Louis’s intentions, so obviously they aren’t fucking alright, but Liam so desperately wants to keep the situation normal, even as it spins out of his control with every passing second. Zayn nods anyway.
“I just...yeah I’m fine but...fuck, just fucking look at them- I can’t...” he trails off, his eyes trained to Niall’s face, watching him so intently that it makes Liam a little nervous. Niall’s biting his lip again, breathing harshly. “Fuck fuck fuck” He pants and then Harry breaths in through his nose so sharply that it’s audible, sinking down onto Niall’s cock and Niall groans from somewhere far in the back of his throat, thick and strangled and it takes Liam a minute to realize that holy shit, Niall is coming. He whimpers as Harry works him through it, not pulling off until Louis walks over and tugs on the back of his shirt. Niall pulls out, still gasping and Louis slaps a hand over Harry’s mouth.
“Swallow.” He orders and Harry does, cringing at the taste, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple eliciting the same response from Liam that it had when he was drinking the vodka. Louis glances up, staring at Liam and Zayn expectantly. ‘Well, who’s next then?”
“Liam?” he suggests and Liam swears that his heart fucking stops. He shakes his head rapidly; stepping backwards slightly and making fumbly gestures with his hands that are somehow supposed to indicate “No, no thank you, nope, not today” but in reality just seem to make him look like an idiot, because Louis and Niall both start laughing and even Harry smiles down at the floor. Liam blushes and wonders if Louis had just expected him to go along, had just expected him to go ‘Oh, alright. Yes, gay blowjob, perfect” and drop trough without a second though.
Apparently so, because that’s all it really takes for Zayn to agree to it. He and Louis make eye contact as Zayn is undoing the button on his pants and they both start softly laughing again, like this situation truly is funny. Liam must be losing his sense of humor or something, because literally everyone else seems to think that this is a good time to be joking around.
“I want you to suck Zayn off just like you did to Niall, Harry.” Louis instructs, taking his hand off of Harry’s mouth “You’re going to let him come in your mouth and you’re going to swallow all of it, yeah?” Harry nods, his chest swelling with each inhale, trying to get his breath back. “How deep do you think you can take him?” Louis’s tone gets breathier, his pitch rising slightly. Harry shrugs, quickly glancing to Zayn, who stands in front of him with his pants and boxers already off and discarded to the side.
Liam’s seen Zayn naked before- hell, he’s seen them all naked before. They were in the same pledge class, him and Zayn and Louis and Niall, and there had been numerous rituals that required them to remove various articles of clothing. But he’s never seen them quite like this- Niall is lying on the couch, looking blissful and out of it, Zayn’s standing over Harry, lazily stroking himself as he watches Louis give Harry instructions. And Louis, fucking /Louis/. If Liam had considered how he normally acted with pledges to be forceful and domineering, he has no idea how to describe this. Louis grabs a handful of hair at the top of Harry’s head, waiting for Harry’s response.
“I…um..I don’t- I don’t know.” Harry pants, biting his lip as he sizes Zayn up. He can barely get the words out, his voice faint and stalled. Liam watches as he drags a hand up his thigh and palms himself through the mesh of his jeans, his hips rolling as he grinds into his hand. He stares at Zayn’s cock, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches Zayn runs his hands up the length of it and when Zayn gets to the top, squeezing at the head so that precome leaks from the tip, Harry gasps, his hips stuttering forward as he keens high in the back of his throat. Zayn looks to Liam, flushed and a bit pleased with himself and there’s a weird feeling in the pit of Liam’s stomach. He’d almost call it jealousy, but that doesn’t make any sense. And even if it was jealousy, he can’t quite figure out who exactly he’s jealous of- Zayn or Harry or maybe even Louis, standing there was a hand still in Harry’s curls, watching Harry touch himself with a look of smug self-satisfaction.
Harry’s hand moves to the waistband of his shorts, his fingertips sliding past the elastic a few inches before Louis reaches down and slaps it away. Harry groans in frustration, tearing his eyes away from Zayn’s dick to look up at Louis with pleading eyes. “Please, please, Louis, I need to come. Just once, please.” Louis shakes his head, which is a marvel in its own right, as Liam can’t see how anyone could ever deny Harry of something like that.
“You’ll come when you’re told.” Louis tells him, his eyes clouding darkly. Harry makes a sound of protest but Louis cuts him off with another sharp pull on his hair. Harry stifles a shout and nods until Louis loosens his grip. “Now go.” He gives a push on the back of Harry’s head and Zayn takes that as his cue to press the head of his cock against Harry’s bruised lips.
Harry doesn’t hesitate this time, just opens his mouth and gets down as far as he can before wrapping his hand around what he can’t get down his throat. Zayn’s thicker than Niall and it takes Harry longer to find a pace that works but he sets into it as soon as he finds it, his eyes screwed shut with concentration and spit dripping down his chin.
Louis asks Zayn how Harry’s doing, trying to sound like he’s teasing. Zayn groans in response. “He’s…fuck, he’s pretty good, actually.” Zayn tells him and Harry pulls off, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth even as he gasps for breath. Liam can tell that the praise meant something and he understands, as weird as that sounds. Louis laughs, watching Harry’s cheeks flush pink at Zayn’s words.
“Almost seems like maybe this isn’t his first time.” He says, his tone mocking. Harry doesn’t answer, just resuming laving over Zayn’s cock, licking a thick stripe up in the underside and sucking wetly at the head. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell the others.” Harry still refuses to respond; instead he closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing past his gag reflex. “How many nights a week do you get fucked like this?” Louis asks, his voice getting higher as he struggles to find the thing that will push Harry’s buttons. “Just weekends? To give yourself some time to recuperate? It’s a wonder you’re ever able to walk, the way you’re such a slut for it-“ Harry’s shoulders tense up and Liam raises a hand to cut Louis off, but Harry does it for him, pulling off of Zayn so that he can speak.
“I’m not.” He gasps. “I’ve never…” he stutters a bit as he realizes that they’re all looking at him, even Niall, who had gathered enough strength to haul himself into a sitting position on the couch. “I’ve never done this to anyone else.” He insists, his eyes widening in earnest. Louis studies him for a moment, holding his gaze much longer than necessary.
“Guess you’ve just got a mouth made for sucking cock, then.” Liam’s face grows hot when he hears Louis say that- it’s just embarrassing now, the way his dick twitches every time Louis makes a crude comment. It isn’t worth it to ignore how aroused he is- he feels like he’s going to pass out of he doesn’t get himself off within the next five minutes. He sees Niall out of the corner of his eye, casually splayed out across the couch with his cock in hand, and god, it wouldn’t be that weird, would it? At least to just strip off some layers because it’s far too hot in Niall’s tiny bedroom.
Harry had gone back to work after his outburst, working his mouth down Zayn’s cock like he had something to prove. Zayn’s gripping Harry’s shoulder, his knuckles bleached mauve from the pressure, and Liam can tell that he’s close. He has to turn away and walked past the two of them towards the couch, stripping off his shirt and beginning to work at his pants. Niall gives a soft wolf whistle, momentarily pulling his attention from the scene in front of him to goad Liam gently. “Take it all off, baby.” He teases, somehow still able to smile, though Liam can’t imagine how. Is he the only one that this situation is weird for?
He sits on the couch, opposite from Niall and Christ; it’s so much easier to breathe now that he doesn’t feel like his shirt is going to suffocate him. He stares at the ceiling and gets a hand around himself, stroking upward and fuck, it’s like he hasn’t touched himself in months , the way he arches into it, pretending like he can’t hear Zayn’s groans, which are becoming increasingly frantic. He pretends to block out the noise Harry makes when he gags and pushes past it, earning a murmur of approval from Louis. Liam looks over just in time to see Zayn curling in on himself, his lips parted and his fingernails digging into the soft skin of Harry’s shoulder as he wordlessly rides the orgasm out. Harry sputters a bit and has to pull off, come dripping out of the corners of his mouth. Louis gives him a pointed look and he swallows, looking up obediently and opening his mouth wide to prove that he got it all down. Louis just smirks and tells him to take his clothes off.
Louis straightens up and looks around, his eyes falling on Liam almost immediately. “Perfect. You’re already undressed.” He says, nudging Harry with his foot and gesturing towards Liam. Liam stutters again, protesting.
“I...wait, no…what about you?” he’s well aware of the pleading tone to his voice and how it’s mostly because he hopes that Louis will shoot down his objection right away. He does, in a typical Louis fashion.
“Oh no.” Louis grins. “I go last.” He looks down at Harry again, who swallows heavily, his shoulders tensing. Liam tries to come up with another weak reason why he can’t do this but by the time he figures one out, Harry’s already between his legs, all wet lips and damp lashes and big green eyes.
“Move up a little, yeah?” he says, motioning for Liam to sit on the edge of the couch cushion. He seems comfortable, sure of himself, even, but his hands are still shaking and his movements are harsh and jittery. Liam bends his head low, closer to Harry.
“Youre doing okay, yeah?.” He whispers, trying to get any sort of gauge on what Harry's situation is.
"Definitely okay." Harry tells him. "Better than ok." And he means it, Liam can see it in his face which opens up all sorts of fun questions about Harry's sexual psyche. But this is clearly no place for that kind of psychoanalysis, especially with the way Harry's got a hand on his chest, urging him to lie back, so he just nods and leans back a little, breathing in to try and stop the nervous hammering of his heart inside his chest. Harry gets him into his mouth and Liam bites at his knuckle to keep from shouting because it’s so, so good, especially with the massive amounts of tension he had been fighting off since this whole thing had began. Harry’s lips do feel as good as they look and what Harry lacks in finesse he makes up for in enthusiasm.
Liam can already tell that he’s not going to last long but he tries- gritting his teeth and scraping his fingernails against the cheap fabric of the couch cushions- but it’s not enough. Harry goes down farther and Liam’s cock hits the back of his throat and it’s enough to make him feel the orgasm building between his hips. Harry moves back up, his tongue dragging over the tip of Liam’s cock and then fuck, yes, fuck that’s it and he grips the arm of the couch to steady himself as he comes, shuddering and biting his lip around a moan.
For a while, he just lets his head loll against the back of the couch, allowing himself to get his breath back. He’s so wrapped up that he doesn’t even notice that Harry doesn’t get up from his place between his legs. He’s leaning forward slightly, his nails digging into the soft skin of Liam’s thighs and he’s got this strange look on his face, like his stomach is hurting, but a good kind of hurt. Liam gathers the strength to lift his head and jumps a bit in suprise when he sees Louis kneeling on the floor behind Harry.
He starts to say something, to ask Louis what the fuck he’s doing, but the question dies halfway out his throat when Louis rotates his wrist, drawing Liam’s attention to it, and then he sees exactly what Louis is doing. He’s got a finger, slick with god-knows-what, in Harry’s arse, his free hand on the small of Harry’s back as he presses in. Liam can feel Harry shuddering against his legs as it slids in with little resistance. “Oh, Harry.” Louis gasps softly, his voice sharp and cruel and surprised. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Harry groans, leaning forward and pressing his face into the crease of Liam’s hip. Liam pets his hair, trying to be reassuring but then Louis slides a second finger into Harry and Harry gasps, laying his teeth into the skin of Liam’s pelvis and Liam instinctively pulls at his hair, more out of surprise than anything else, but that only makes Harry moan louder, rocking back onto Louis’s hand.
Louis is grinning like a madman, working his fingers in and out of Harry at a torturously slow pace. Harry’s whimpering and mouthing at Liam’s bare skin, his hips rolling forward, and the feel of Harry’s hot breath on his hip is enough to make Liam’s cock twich, which is fucking ridiculous considering the fact that he just came a few minutes ago. “Who got here first?” Louis asks, pumping his fingers a bit faster. Harry gasps and shakes his head, his fingers scraping helplessly at the couch cushions as he croaks out “No one. No one, fuck, I-I promise.”
“ He’s probably just fucked himself before.” Niall comments from his perch on the other side of the couch. Louis gapes at him for a second, as though he forgot that he was there. “Y’know..” Niall makes a gesture with his fingers. “So that he’d be ready for…” Niall’s smart enough not to finish the sentence off with “ready for this” because Liam highly doubts that Harry had this kind of situation in mind while fucking himself in the communal showers of the shitty freshman dorms. Harry’s nodding at Niall’s words, twisting himself around so that he can confirm it to Louis. Louis meets him half, leaning forward and draping over Harry’s body with his own. Harry tilts his face upwards so that Louis’s mouth meets the shell of his ear and he works his hand between his torso and the couch, reaching for his cock. Louis whispers something into Harry’s ear, low and dirty, his eyes flickering up to meet Liam’s and a smile splitting his face, the kind that makes Liam feel uneasy. Harry’s flushing at his words, whatever they are, his swollen mouth falling slightly agape as he leans into Louis’s touch, pumping a hand over his own erection, which still remains uncared for. Liam feels a pang of sympathy as he sees just how ridiculously hard Harry is, his cock full and rigid against his stomach. He considers reaching a hand down to help Harry out, but he knows that Louis wouldn’t approve.
Louis removes his fingers, still wet with what Liam figures to be lube, and grabs Harry’s hips, grinding himself into Harry’s backside. Harry moans and adjusts his stance, spreading his knees farther apart and pushing back against Louis just as strongly. “Such a slut .” Louis mutters approvingly. Liam looks up to see Zayn standing off to the side, now completely naked. He gives Liam a thumbs up and a faint smile, which Liam weakly reciprocates, until Harry bites him again and he shouts, his hip aching.
Louis leans back, slapping Harry on the arse in a quick upward swipe, leaving an angry red mark on the pale skin. Harry winces but doesn’t say a word, just shoots Liam an apologetic look that quickly dissolves into another stuttering moan as Louis reaches around and gets a hand on his cock. Liam feels the couch sink a bit as Niall scoots closer, giving Zayn room to sit on the end. Liam desperately wants to look at one of them, just to gauge how things are going, but he can’t catch their eyes. They’re both watching as Louis gets Harry off, pressing sloppy, half-drunk kisses from his shoulders up his neck, pulling away to reveal red splotches that Harry will have to hide from his roommate and the other brothers tomorrow. Louis presses his mouth to the shell of Harry's ear again, slowing the movement of his hand and breathing heavily. "Do you want to do this?" he asks, so softly that Liam almost doesn't catch it. Harry nods frantically, chewing on his lower lip and keeping his eyes downcast. "Are you sure? You can leave if you want. I wouldn't want...we're not like that." Louis assures, his voice still tight but less forceful, less intimidating. Harry nods again, more steady.
"Yes, yes, I do, I promise, just- fuck, please, christ-" he tells Louis through clenched teeth. He turns his head enough to meet Louis’s mouth and then they’re kissing, really kissing, wet and open-mouthed and a bit desperate, and normally Liam would panic because that’s when things are supposed to get gay, right, when people start kissing? But then he remembers the whole circumstance- that Harry had just blown them one right after another with his hand on his own dick the whole time and now he’s probably going to let them fuck him that way too- and Liam realizes that this had been pretty fucking gay right from the start, before Louis shoved his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry’s moans start dying halfway out his throat and he’s fucking up roughly into Louis’s fist, gasping hoarsely every time Louis palms at the head of his cock. He comes a few seconds later, spurting up onto his stomach and some of it dripping down onto Louis’s hand.
Louis’s got an arm around Harry’s middle, holding him upright so that he won’t collapse on the floor in a quivering mess. He lifts his hand to Harry’s mouth, his fingers slick with Harry’s own come, crooning softly for Harry to open his mouth and his eyes and Harry obeys without a moment of hesitation, sucking his come off of Louis’s fingers and looking to the three of them sitting on the couch, his eyes dazed and glassy. Niall and Zayn are already hard again, both of them idly stroking themselves as they watch, and Harry takes notice right away, his breath hitching as he watches them hungrily and when his eyes move past Zayn, Liam puts a hand on his own cock, already half-hard against his thigh. There’s a weird sense of embarrassment that he’s not hard yet, like it will offend Harry or something. He squeezes at the base and feels the blood pulsing underneath the thin layer of skin, precome smearing against his thigh as his cock twitches. Harry’s still watching, his eyes flickering between the three of them like he’s sizing them up. Louis removes his fingers from Harry’s mouth while whispering something in his ear and Harry swallows nervously, a new flush of pink creeping down his neck, before nodding slowly. Louis smirks and turns to Zayn and Niall.
“We’re going to need the couch.” He explains and Liam has never seen Niall move faster than when he scrambles off the couch and onto his bed that lies parallel to it. Zayn follows, his movements slow and shaky, like he’s walking in a dream. Liam moves to stand, but he’s met with Harry’s large hand against his chest. “No, you stay.” Louis tells him as he moves to the end of the couch previously occupied by Zayn, stretching out in a very cat-like manner before lying down, his head separated from the arm rest by a couch pillow. Somewhere along the way, and Liam can’t really pinpoint where, Louis had managed to discard his pants and boxers and now they’re all naked and shit, there’s no denying it now- this is really, really gay. Before Liam can really agree to anything, Harry’s clambering over Louis’s legs, pressing his face into the dip of Louis’s pelvis, his arse facing Liam, who just stares at it, stammering. He figured that it was going to come to this eventually but it had seemed so far off and fuck, to be honest, there was still a part of him that had been convinced that Louis would have called the whole thing off by now.
“What…” It’s the only word Liam can choke out and he doesn’t even phrase it like a question, just a low sigh of bewilderment. He gets up on his knees behind Harry, trying to ignore the way Harry rocks back into him, how his fingers curl around Harry’s hips like its second nature. And then suddenly Harry’s ducking his head, sinking down onto Louis’s cock and Louis makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, his hand curling around to cup the back of Harry’s neck, pushing down, and he bites his lip around a smile when he hears Harry gag.
He makes eye contact with Liam over the length of Harry’s back and Louis points his finger to a vague spot of the floor. ‘Lube…lube’s over there.” Liam leans over, grasping for it blindly before finally snagging it, snapping the lid up. His hands are shaking and what the hell is he even supposed to do with this, for god’s sake?
‘What do I…” he stutters, hoping Louis’s not too far gone to give him some kind of instruction.
“You just put it all over your dick and - oh, Harry - and, uh, fuck, just make sure there’s enough and- God - yeah just make sure to go slow and-“Louis can’t finish, his voice fading out into a moan. Liam can’t help but hesitate- those were pretty subpar directions and he’s just never done this before and the last thing he wants is to hurt Harry in any way. He’s afraid to push in now, while Harry’s sucking Louis off, in fear that it’ll be hard for Harry to handle but that’s the point, isn’t it? For it to be way too much and for Harry to take all of it anyways. He manages to slick himself up without much trouble, dripping lube all over the couch cushions and fuck, Niall’s going to kill him for that. He gets a hand on the small of Harry’s back, holding his dick with the other and tentatively pressing it against Harry’s hole. Harry’s whole body flinches in response and Liam suspects he accidentally used some teeth because Louis swears loudly and pulls hard at the hair on the nape of his neck.
He’s too freaked out to try again so for a moment he just stays there, not sure what to do. And then he hears Zayn, sounding like he’s a million miles away even though he can’t be more than five feet from him. “Go on.” He says and Christ, Zayn has that raspy sex voice thing going on, too and that’s hot, that’s really, really hot, Liam thinks. Niall chimes in too- “Yeah, c’mon Liam. Just do it.” in the same way that Liam and Zayn encouraged him earlier in the night. Niall’s red-faced and breathless and he just seems so interested in it, in a funny way, like half the reason he wants Liam to do it is just so that he gets a chance to see how it really works.
Liam looks to Zayn, catching his eye almost immediately and Zayn says “I want to see you do it.” and all the blood that was lingering in Liam’s brain floods straight to his cock and all his reasoning goes with it. He positions himself again, can feel the heat of Louis’s gaze on him as he pushes in, as slow as he possibly can.
“Oh, my god.” Harry gasps softly, his voice husky and small and completely wrecked. Liam wishes he could see his face because it means something to him, the fact that he’s the first one to ever do this with Harry and he wants to see him bite his lip and gasp hoarsely and come apart from it. He has to hold himself from pushing in all at once, because Harry's so fucking tight and it feels so good, too good, almost, like it's going to make him faint. He hears Niall whimpering and Zayn saying something to him, low and sweet and Liam thinks they might be kissing. Harry's pulled off of Louis, but Louis's got him by the chin so that he can watch his face. Liam sinks in a bit more, his blunt nails digging into Harry's lower back, because he's already light-headed and close. Louis tells Harry to keep his eyes open.
“So much more than you’re used to, right?” Louis asks, reaching down to tug at Harry’s curls. “So much bigger.” And Harry nods, whimpering as Liam pushes in another inch. “But you’re so good, taking it all for us. We all want to fuck you so badly, Haz. Wanna give you what you deserve.” Liam bottoms out and Harry’s shaking, writhing madly underneath him like he’s trying to break out of his skin.
Overstimulation- that’s the only word Liam can think of to describe it, for both of them. Louis nods at him, says “You can move, you know.” and Liam grabs hold of Harry’s hips again, pulling out slightly and pushing back in, relief flooding his chest when Harry sighs and grinds back into him. He moves in gradually increasing thrusts, constantly reminding himself to resist the urge to fuck Harry into the couch cushions. Once they have a steady rhythm going Harry goes back down on Louis, Louis gripping the back of his neck so that he can fuck his mouth roughly. Harry keeps coughing and gagging but Louis doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, Liam’s pretty sure it does something for him, because pretty soon, he’s pulling Harry off, telling him to stay still while he jacks himself off. Liam’s hips start snapping forward when Louis begins gasping roughly and Liam realizes what he’s going to do. He didn’t even know facials were a thing for him but he feels his balls clench tight when Harry turns his head and Liam can see Louis’s come smeared across his cheeks, dripping down towards his chin.
“Talk to him, Li.” Louis orders, running his fingers through the mess on Harry’s face. Liam gapes for a few seconds- he’s not sure what he’s supposed to say and the only sounds he can really think of forming right now are probably not recognized as words in the English language. He angles his hips slightly and then he can feel the head of his cock knock against something inside Harry and his nerves are shot to hell because fuck, is that even supposed to happen? But Harry cries out so loudly that for a second Liam is worried that someone downstairs will hear them, and he grinds his arse back against Liam’s hips shamelessly.
“You like it like that, huh?” it’s the only phrase he can really think of, the only phrase that fits, really, and he says it through gritted teeth, trying to stave off his impending orgasm but it makes the words come out harsher and rougher than he meant. Harry nods frantically, biting that fucking lower lip and moaning “Yessss…” , looking Liam dead in the eye, his pupils blow with lust and fuck, that’s it, Liam’s done. His hips lose their rhythm as he thrusts unevenly, his fingers digging bruises into Harry’s skin, coming hard enough that he sees stars behind his lids. He doesn’t bother to pull out, but it seems right to do that, somehow, like he’s marking Harry as his own.
He’s barely conscience to the outside world after, falling onto his back in an orgasm-induced haze. His limbs feel all heavy, like it’d literally be impossible to move them if he tried and his brain’s gone foggy. Nothing’s better than this, the way he feels after a really amazing fuck, all heady and feverish and languid, like his bones are made of rubber. He hears the sounds of messy kissing and skin against skin on the other end of the couch, but he’s too exhausted to crane his neck and see who it is. He hears Zayn muttering “Oh fuck.” a few times and then there’s more sloppy kissing and the low buzz of Louis whispering something filthy into Harry’s ear.
He can’t bring himself to move from the couch, so he watches from it as they all move to the bed, tripping over each other’s feet. It takes some fumbling but Niall ends up kneeling in front of Harry, between his legs, and takes a minute to kiss Harry clumsily before pushing into him. Liam didn’t even know that guys could have sex facing each other like that and it makes him wonder how exactly Niall knew how to do it without Louis barking instructions in his ear. Niall’s already worked himself up so much that he’s close within the first couple minutes, panting heavily. “Come on his chest.” Louis orders and Niall shoots him a look but does what he says anyways, pulling out (a little too quickly, judging by the way Harry winces) and fucking into his fist until he’s there, spurting onto Harry’s stomach. Harry twitches at the contact and it must be weird, Liam thinks, having come on your skin that isn’t your own. But Harry doesn’t really have time to think about it because Zayn elbows Niall of the way and grabs at Harry’s hips, flipping him onto his stomach.
He fucks Harry the same way Liam did, but he’s harsher and less careful than Liam was, reaching around to work at Harry’s cock as he pushes into him. Liam manages to haul himself off of the couch and climb onto the bed, sitting between Niall and Louis on the side not occupied by Harry’s lanky frame. He watches the end of it, his hands clasped tight around his ankles to keep him from reaching out and touching either of them, because he’s not quite sure if that’s allowed. They’re both coming within seconds of each other, Harry’s release triggering Zayn’s and after he pulls out, Harry lets his body drop the bed heavily, smiling and blissed out and so obviously pleased with himself.
“Do you think you’re done or something?” Louis snarls, crawling up to take Zayn’s place and flipping Harry onto his back again. Harry freezes up for a second, propped up on his elbows, but Louis doesn’t give him time to think before he’s shoving him back onto the bed, his hand firm in the center of his chest. Niall shifts his weight on the bed and immediately, Liam and Zayn look to him. All he does is raise his eyebrows and clear his throat and when they all look back, Louis is already thrusting inside Harry, working up a rhythm. Liam can see Harry get hard again, his cock stiffening against his stomach every time Louis gets himself a little deeper. Louis works up to it, but Harry’s already so fucked out and wet that it’s so easy to go into him a little faster, a little harder. Liam’s watching Harry’s face for any signs of discomfort but he seems fine- more than fine, really, especially when he gets a hand around his dick, jacking himself off roughly like a horny schoolboy aching for friction.
“Stop it.” Louis rasps. He lifts a hand to move Harry’s wrist but almost loses his balance, planting his hand back on to the bed to steady himself. Harry ignores him, working over his flushed cock with quick, frantic strokes, his breath quickening. “I- fuck- someone hold his hands.” Louis snaps and Zayn, sitting closest to the head board, immediately reaches down and grabs Harry’s wrists, pinning them up against the pillows. Harry cries out, twisting his body upwards only to have his hips shoved back down to the mattress by Louis’s quick hands. “Just take it. Just fucking take what you’re given.” Louis growls, his nails digging little crescents into Harry’s pale skin and his thrusts quickening, the rhythmic thumping of the headboard hitting the wall growing increasingly audible.
Harry nods, his curls mussing against the pillow. “Okay.” He can barely get the word out, his voice is so gone. “Okay. Yeah, god, yeah, fucking give it to me, Louis.” And he doesn’t need to say it twice.
Louis doubles into it, fucking him so hard that Liam’s afraid he’s going to break Harry in half or something. Harry’s breathing in short, strangled bursts, the air getting knocked out of him with every thrust, and he hooks his ankles together behind Louis’s back to keep him in deep. Zayn moves his hands to press Harry’s palms to the mattress, not wanting to cut off circulation in his wrists and Harry grabs at Zayn’s hands with trembling fingers, clutching them for what little support they can provide as Louis fucks into him mercilessly. Louis must be doing something right, because Harry gasps and tilts his head back into the pillows, baring his neck to them, already splotchy with bruises and fading bite marks. Liam thinks to lean down and kiss at it but Niall gets there first, one hand tracing at Harry’s jaw line and the other bracing himself against the pillows, so Liam settles for running a hand down Harry’s chest, petting at the scratch marks and hickeys left by the others before him.
Harry wails a bit, trying to curl in on himself despite his restraints, and Louis nods as though it’s a sound he understands, readjusting his grip on Harry’s hips, trying to keep the angle right. Four more thrusts and Harry’s there, two weak shots of come spurting onto his stomach as he chokes out a sob and next time, Liam thinks, maybe they can try for a fourth orgasm and see if Harry drips at all and oh fuck that’s sick, the fact that he’s thinking of a next time at all.
He expects Louis to let up a bit after that because Harry’s wrecked, and understandably so. His whole body goes slack; his hands are limp in Zayn’s grip and his legs fall open, his ankle and calf dangling off the side of the bed. But Louis doesn’t slow down, just keeps pounding into Harry with his teeth digging into his own lower lip so hard that Liam thinks he might draw blood. He doesn’t even change the angle, just keeps rubbing against that spot that makes Harry squirm and cry out and pretty soon, Harry’s tensing up again, his eyes wide and watering and a bit panicked. Liam’s ready to ask Louis to call it quits but then Louis asks “Is it too much?” , as though he read Liam’s mind, his voice cracking so badly that Liam can only barely make out what he’s saying.
Harry shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘Tell me when.” Louis says and Harry nods, arching his back off the bed and then, fuck, he’s gasping again, breaking out into frantic little wheezes and his head is thrashing against the pillow as he struggles again against Zayn’s hands. Louis does something , Liam has no clue what, and Harry manages to roll his hips up before falling back against the mattress, which only serves to push Louis further inside of him. Louis thrusts again and then Harry’s sobbing, not just one but several wracking sobs all in a row. Liam swears he sees tears and Harry’s cries are about a decibel away from turning into screams and it’s then that Louis asks again ‘Is it too much?” and oh thank God, Harry’s nodding, wailing “Yes, yes,” and, like someone flipped a switch, Louis comes, his lids fluttering as his eyes roll back to the whites.
++
No one says anything at first. Louis pulls out, limbs shaking, and Harry keens softly, clenching around the sudden emptiness. Louis doesn’t even bother moving from his spot, just rolls over so that he’s half in the space next to Harry, half draped over Liam and Niall’s laps and they both move back as far as they can without falling off the other end of the bed. Zayn releases Harry’s hands and moves his arms back down into their normal position, rubbing at his shoulder joints to decrease any ache. Harry’s still wheezing a bit, loudly enough that Niall leans over and half-jokingly asks Liam if they should go see if they can find an inhaler for him or something. It shouldn’t be so funny, but it is, and Liam’s laughing so hard that tears prick at his eyes. Louis swats at his foot weakly but it’s all he can really manage and somehow, that’s funny too. Niall beckons Zayn over and they’re all in a row, watching Louis and Harry recuperate.
“Our babies.” Zayn coos sarcastically and Niall turns to him with an incredulous expression.
“Dude, that’s gay.” He deadpans and immediately starts laughing to himself because leave it to Niall to make a joke about a gangbang two minutes after it had just ended. He braces his hands on the comforter and somehow places his palm on a come stain, still wet on the comforter. “God damnit, my sheets .” he sighs and god damnit doesn’t even begin to cover it. There’s lube and come and sweat smeared everywhere, making the whole room smell like sex and Liam can see the wet spot growing where Harry’s leaking out onto the bed. “No one’s ever going to believe that I jizzed this much all in one night.” Niall laments, wiping his hand off on his thigh.
Getting Harry into some kind of presentable state is their priority, Liam decides, and Niall runs into his bathroom to get a shower running while Liam and Zayn try to maneuver Harry off the bed with minimal disturbances to Louis. They carry him into the bathroom, his head resting on Liam’s shoulder. Liam can feel his eyelashes against his neck as Harry opens his eyes. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, just to take a quick check of the situation. Harry nods a bit, closing his eyes again.
“Well fucked.” He sighs and Zayn makes a comment about how that’s probably the best response they could hope for. They get him into the tub, where there’s already a warm shower going and Liam wets a washcloth, wiping at Harry’s chest. It’s such a familiar act to Liam- he’s washed and been washed by the others countless times, when one or two of them had gotten sick or spilled a drink all over themselves and had been too pissed to clean themselves up. And now that’s he’s doing it to Harry, after what Harry just did for them, or let them do to him- it seems right, like it’s an initiation, like Harry’s earned it. He’s an absolute mess, of course- there’s come on his face and caked into his fringe, dried on his chest and stomach in large splotches and still dripping out of him between his legs. Beside Liam, Niall grabs a half-empty bottle of shampoo and squirts some into his hand, working it through Harry’s matted curls with some difficulty. Zayn goes back into the room to check on Louis and comes back moments later, supporting the boy in question with an arm around his shoulders.
“Look at you.” Louis smirks, still himself with all his strength stripped away. “You’ve already got them all attending to you.” Liam sees that Louis has a pair of boxers on now, while the rest of them are stark naked. The last one naked and the first one with clothing on- typical Louis. Probably a control thing, just like everything else.
“I’d damn well say I deserved it.” Harry quips softly, tilting his head back to let Niall wash the filth out of his hair. He quirks one eye open, to study Louis. ‘Did I do well?” he asks and Liam bites back a chuckle. Louis shrugs as much as he can. Liam suspects he might’ve thrown his shoulder out.
“You did alright.” He concludes before allowing Zayn to lead him back into the bedroom. Harry settles back against the tub, looking pleased.
“I did alright.” He says smugly as Niall washes the last of the shampoo out of his hair. They towel him off and hurry back to the bedroom, where Zayn and Louis are already dressed in pairs of Niall’s boxers and asleep, one on each end of the couch. The bed was now fitted with a pair of clean sheets, the soiled set tossed into a corner. Niall rifles through his drawers, pulling out clean clothes for all of them and they change. The room still reeks of sex, but at least now it’s sex and shampoo, which is slightly less offensive.
Before he stumbles into bed with Harry and Niall, he remembers to grab the bottle of Goose from between the couch cushions and set it on the coffee table, to provide a half-assed excuse for when they all wake up in the morning. But for now, he’s content to clamber onto the bed, punching Harry in the leg in order to acquire a space large enough to comfortably lie out, and surrender himself to the tendrils of fucked-out, half-drunk sleep, the best and most restful kind there is.