to hands between legs, to whatever it takes [5/?]
pairing: liam payne/harry styles
rating: nc-17
wc: 1494 (this chapter) 4307 (running total)
summary: based on a prompt over at the kinkmeme - "Harry and Liam have been in a relationship for a few weeks and every time they fool around and Liam slides his hand around Harry's little arse and wants to finger him, Harry pushes him away. Harry is scared that he's too tight for Liam to be able to fuck him and that Liam is going to leave him because of it. Eventually Harry is willing to give it a go.
Liam works double shifts for the next three days, doesn’t see Harry at all and only texts him twice, getting one-word responses both times. That’s not like Harry. He’s not a normal kind of texter - refuses to use abbreviations that he considers beneath him, and constantly becoming frustrated with the character limit that constrains all the sweeping statements he wants to make.
Liam’s caught between feeling excited and terrified of the quickly-approaching weekend. He’s afraid that he’s been forward with Harry, somehow pressuring him to do something he’s unsure about. Harry’s cryptic texts only intensify these fears, making Liam sick to the stomach as he imagines his boyfriend crying himself to sleep over the pressure, or something equally as morbid.
On the other hand - and this is what makes Liam really guilty, what he really wants to hit himself over the head for - he really does want to have sex with Harry. He can’t deny the fact that it’s been in the back of his mind in some form or another ever since he met the boy.
In fact it’s there quite prominently when he picks Harry up on Friday, and Liam actually pinches himself - hard - on the leg when his cock gives an interested twitch when he sights Harry.
He doesn’t want to brag, or anything, but he’s done this a few times before - though never with anyone as inexperienced as Harry. He knows that the important things are
Harry’s entire body seems to be blushing, hyper-aware of Liam’s eyes on him. Liam kneels down onto the bed.
“Turn over for me, baby,” he murmurs, settling in between Harry’s legs while Harry lays on his stomach, clutching Liam’s pillow. Liam’s thought ahead and decided this would provide the easiest access for him. As soon as his palm finds Harry’s thigh, though, Harry shakes his head.
“I want - I want to be able to see,” he stammers, lifting himself onto an elbow.
Liam blinks, the thought having not even occurred to him. “Oh - yeah, that’s fine, baby, here..” He lifts Harry up and turns him around again, positioning him on his back with his knees tucked against his chest. “Is that okay?” he asks softly, kissing Harry’s thigh.
Harry nods, watching Liam silently, still blushing. Liam moves slowly, takes his hands away from Harry’s sides and moves them to Harry’s bare little ass, spreads him with his thumbs, and jesus fucking christ - Liam doesn’t know how this can be any better than what he’d fantasized about, but it is. Harry’s nearly trembling under his hands with the depth of his breaths and the speed of his heart, flushed all over. His hole is pink and tiny and for a moment Liam nearly panics because Harry’s right how the hell is he gonna fit in there?
Liam takes a deep breath and reminds himself of the elasticity of the human body and the fact that he’s supposed to be the calm, experienced one here. He hands Harry the small bottle of lube, deciding to give Harry a distraction.
“I’m gonna use my mouth first, okay, baby? I want you to warm some of this up in your hand while I do that so it isn’t so cold for you.” Harry nods, his dark eyes not leaving Liam’s. Liam smiles reassuringly and ducks between Harry’s legs, kissing along his inner thighs for a minute before licking a broad stripe up the cleft of his ass all the way to his balls. Harry gasps above him and Liam glances up, concerned.
“All right, Harry?”
He nods, eyes still locked on Liam and clasping the bottle of lube tightly in his hands. Liam ducks down again, licks with more purpose, circling his tongue around Harry’s entrance. He lets Harry get used to the sensation, relishing the feeling of his boyfriend beginning to squirm under his ministrations. Soon he’s pushing his tongue shallowly inside of Harry and shit, even that’s a tight fit.
Harry nuzzles into Liam. “It’s fine...just different,” he whispers.
“Do you wanna try a finger?”
Harry nods quickly and hands Liam the bottle of lube. Liam pours some into his hand and coats his index finger with it, setting it on the bed next to him when he’s done.
“We’ll just start with one, and I want you to tell me if it hurts or if you want to stop, okay?”
“Kay,” Harry whispers absently, watching Liam’s hand. Liam can’t tell if he’s eager or nervous, so he goes slow, tracing Harry’s entrance before slipping his finger in. It’s easy enough what with the lube and saliva, and he moves himself around, trying to spread the lube around inside of Harry. He’s gone rather stiff, and Liam reaches up to hold his hip.
“You’re okay, Harry, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs, withdrawing his finger to add some more lube. He pushes his first finger gently to the side before slipping the next one in smoothly. Harry wriggles a little but doesn’t seem to be in too much discomfort, so Liam starts to slowly scissor his fingers, keeping his movements slow and predictable.
“I-I didn’t know to use lube,” Harry whispers brokenly, “when I tried.” Liam can tell he’s trying to distract himself and he replies easily.
“This’ll make it so much better, baby,” he responds, beginning to truly stretch Harry with his fingers now, flexing them apart gently. Harry sucks in a breath, and his hands move to grip Liam’s shoulders. “You’re all right, you’re being so good,” Liam murmurs. “I’m gonna go in a little further, kay?”
Harry blushes and nods, and Liam thrusts his fingers inside to the knuckle, slowly, patiently, and crooks them just a little bit and - damn. The tenseness of Harry’s body leaves with a whoosh, and he melts into the mattress, entire body relaxing as he draws in a shuddering breath.
“Ah - ah, Li, god - that felt good,” he says breathily, squirming against Liam’s fingers.
Liam can’t help but smile in relief that Harry’s enjoying himself, and strokes his prostate some more, keeping only the soft pads of his fingers on the sensitive spot. He’d thought Harry had been exaggerating when he described how tight he was, but Liam realizes now that he’d be hard-pressed to even sneak another finger in. His cock seems to groan in disappointment as he decides he won’t try to enter Harry tonight, thinking it’ll be too much. He reaches for Harry’s cock where it’s lying heavily against his hip, harder now than it was a minute ago. He gives it a few tugs and leans forward to kiss Harry, who’s all messy lips and hot breath. Harry’s hips begin to stutter back and forth between Liam’s fingers and his fist, and he breaks the kiss to put a hand on his cock, stilling Liam’s movements.
“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, “and I don’t wanna, yet.”
Liam frowns. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, I don’t -”
Harry shakes his head. “I wanna try...” he blushes, chews his bottom lip. “I wanna take all of you.”
Liam gapes at Harry. “You mean...oh, Harry. Don’t you think this is enough for now.”
Harry shakes his head doggedly. “You promised we would.”
Liam sighs. “I really don’t think I did,” he mutters.
Harry fixes him with big green eyes and messy hair, lips bright from kissing. “Please, Li. I really wanna and I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts. Don’t you think it would be better now if you do it than if I go out to a club next weekend and have a stranger do it for me?” When Liam’s silent, he goes on. “Or I could get Niall or Zayn to fuck me, they wouldn’t mind.”
Liam narrows his eyes at Harry because even though he doesn’t think Harry would actually do that, that’s nearly fucking blackmail and sometimes he forgets what a manipulative little shit Harry really is.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” he growls, tightening his hold on Harry’s hips. A shiver ripples through Harry’s body and he flexes himself forward onto Liam’s fingers again.
“Please, Li, I can take more, I really can. I want more.” His eyes are pleading, his lips parted, and this isn’t a fair fucking playing field.
rating: nc-17
wc: 1494 (this chapter) 4307 (running total)
summary: based on a prompt over at the kinkmeme - "Harry and Liam have been in a relationship for a few weeks and every time they fool around and Liam slides his hand around Harry's little arse and wants to finger him, Harry pushes him away. Harry is scared that he's too tight for Liam to be able to fuck him and that Liam is going to leave him because of it. Eventually Harry is willing to give it a go.
Liam works double shifts for the next three days, doesn’t see Harry at all and only texts him twice, getting one-word responses both times. That’s not like Harry. He’s not a normal kind of texter - refuses to use abbreviations that he considers beneath him, and constantly becoming frustrated with the character limit that constrains all the sweeping statements he wants to make.
Liam’s caught between feeling excited and terrified of the quickly-approaching weekend. He’s afraid that he’s been forward with Harry, somehow pressuring him to do something he’s unsure about. Harry’s cryptic texts only intensify these fears, making Liam sick to the stomach as he imagines his boyfriend crying himself to sleep over the pressure, or something equally as morbid.
On the other hand - and this is what makes Liam really guilty, what he really wants to hit himself over the head for - he really does want to have sex with Harry. He can’t deny the fact that it’s been in the back of his mind in some form or another ever since he met the boy.
In fact it’s there quite prominently when he picks Harry up on Friday, and Liam actually pinches himself - hard - on the leg when his cock gives an interested twitch when he sights Harry.
He doesn’t want to brag, or anything, but he’s done this a few times before - though never with anyone as inexperienced as Harry. He knows that the important things are
Harry’s entire body seems to be blushing, hyper-aware of Liam’s eyes on him. Liam kneels down onto the bed.
“Turn over for me, baby,” he murmurs, settling in between Harry’s legs while Harry lays on his stomach, clutching Liam’s pillow. Liam’s thought ahead and decided this would provide the easiest access for him. As soon as his palm finds Harry’s thigh, though, Harry shakes his head.
“I want - I want to be able to see,” he stammers, lifting himself onto an elbow.
Liam blinks, the thought having not even occurred to him. “Oh - yeah, that’s fine, baby, here..” He lifts Harry up and turns him around again, positioning him on his back with his knees tucked against his chest. “Is that okay?” he asks softly, kissing Harry’s thigh.
Harry nods, watching Liam silently, still blushing. Liam moves slowly, takes his hands away from Harry’s sides and moves them to Harry’s bare little ass, spreads him with his thumbs, and jesus fucking christ - Liam doesn’t know how this can be any better than what he’d fantasized about, but it is. Harry’s nearly trembling under his hands with the depth of his breaths and the speed of his heart, flushed all over. His hole is pink and tiny and for a moment Liam nearly panics because Harry’s right how the hell is he gonna fit in there?
Liam takes a deep breath and reminds himself of the elasticity of the human body and the fact that he’s supposed to be the calm, experienced one here. He hands Harry the small bottle of lube, deciding to give Harry a distraction.
“I’m gonna use my mouth first, okay, baby? I want you to warm some of this up in your hand while I do that so it isn’t so cold for you.” Harry nods, his dark eyes not leaving Liam’s. Liam smiles reassuringly and ducks between Harry’s legs, kissing along his inner thighs for a minute before licking a broad stripe up the cleft of his ass all the way to his balls. Harry gasps above him and Liam glances up, concerned.
“All right, Harry?”
He nods, eyes still locked on Liam and clasping the bottle of lube tightly in his hands. Liam ducks down again, licks with more purpose, circling his tongue around Harry’s entrance. He lets Harry get used to the sensation, relishing the feeling of his boyfriend beginning to squirm under his ministrations. Soon he’s pushing his tongue shallowly inside of Harry and shit, even that’s a tight fit.
Harry nuzzles into Liam. “It’s fine...just different,” he whispers.
“Do you wanna try a finger?”
Harry nods quickly and hands Liam the bottle of lube. Liam pours some into his hand and coats his index finger with it, setting it on the bed next to him when he’s done.
“We’ll just start with one, and I want you to tell me if it hurts or if you want to stop, okay?”
“Kay,” Harry whispers absently, watching Liam’s hand. Liam can’t tell if he’s eager or nervous, so he goes slow, tracing Harry’s entrance before slipping his finger in. It’s easy enough what with the lube and saliva, and he moves himself around, trying to spread the lube around inside of Harry. He’s gone rather stiff, and Liam reaches up to hold his hip.
“You’re okay, Harry, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs, withdrawing his finger to add some more lube. He pushes his first finger gently to the side before slipping the next one in smoothly. Harry wriggles a little but doesn’t seem to be in too much discomfort, so Liam starts to slowly scissor his fingers, keeping his movements slow and predictable.
“I-I didn’t know to use lube,” Harry whispers brokenly, “when I tried.” Liam can tell he’s trying to distract himself and he replies easily.
“This’ll make it so much better, baby,” he responds, beginning to truly stretch Harry with his fingers now, flexing them apart gently. Harry sucks in a breath, and his hands move to grip Liam’s shoulders. “You’re all right, you’re being so good,” Liam murmurs. “I’m gonna go in a little further, kay?”
Harry blushes and nods, and Liam thrusts his fingers inside to the knuckle, slowly, patiently, and crooks them just a little bit and - damn. The tenseness of Harry’s body leaves with a whoosh, and he melts into the mattress, entire body relaxing as he draws in a shuddering breath.
“Ah - ah, Li, god - that felt good,” he says breathily, squirming against Liam’s fingers.
Liam can’t help but smile in relief that Harry’s enjoying himself, and strokes his prostate some more, keeping only the soft pads of his fingers on the sensitive spot. He’d thought Harry had been exaggerating when he described how tight he was, but Liam realizes now that he’d be hard-pressed to even sneak another finger in. His cock seems to groan in disappointment as he decides he won’t try to enter Harry tonight, thinking it’ll be too much. He reaches for Harry’s cock where it’s lying heavily against his hip, harder now than it was a minute ago. He gives it a few tugs and leans forward to kiss Harry, who’s all messy lips and hot breath. Harry’s hips begin to stutter back and forth between Liam’s fingers and his fist, and he breaks the kiss to put a hand on his cock, stilling Liam’s movements.
“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, “and I don’t wanna, yet.”
Liam frowns. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, I don’t -”
Harry shakes his head. “I wanna try...” he blushes, chews his bottom lip. “I wanna take all of you.”
Liam gapes at Harry. “You mean...oh, Harry. Don’t you think this is enough for now.”
Harry shakes his head doggedly. “You promised we would.”
Liam sighs. “I really don’t think I did,” he mutters.
Harry fixes him with big green eyes and messy hair, lips bright from kissing. “Please, Li. I really wanna and I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts. Don’t you think it would be better now if you do it than if I go out to a club next weekend and have a stranger do it for me?” When Liam’s silent, he goes on. “Or I could get Niall or Zayn to fuck me, they wouldn’t mind.”
Liam narrows his eyes at Harry because even though he doesn’t think Harry would actually do that, that’s nearly fucking blackmail and sometimes he forgets what a manipulative little shit Harry really is.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” he growls, tightening his hold on Harry’s hips. A shiver ripples through Harry’s body and he flexes himself forward onto Liam’s fingers again.
“Please, Li, I can take more, I really can. I want more.” His eyes are pleading, his lips parted, and this isn’t a fair fucking playing field.