He presses Louis up against the door the moment it closes, mouth hot at his neck. Louis closes his eyes, breath streaming out of him in a shivering exhale, baring his throat to Harry.
“Change back into those shorts?” Harry breathes, teeth scraping under Louis’s ear. Louis nods frantically, taking Harry by the hand and depositing him on the couch so he can change.
Harry looks around the room. There are piles of books -- poetry anthologies, scientific journals, novels, thick smelly history textbooks -- and ashtrays and empty beer cans and mugs with old, dried-up tea bags still wedged at the bottom. There’s a television wobbling precariously on top of a bookshelf, and an old pizza box stacked even more precariously on top of that.
“Louis, how many people live here?”
“Three,” Louis calls out from the bedroom. “It’s me, Zayn, and our friend Liam. We all go to school together.”
“Ah,” Harry says, flipping through a dog-eared copy of Leaves of Grass on the coffee table. “And has anyone ever cleaned in here?”
“Liam tries every so often,” Louis replies. Harry hears a thump from his bedroom. “But Zayn and I are sure to always return the flat to its natural state -- a filthy depraved home for filthy depraved boys.”
With that being said, Louis appears in the doorway, leaning mock-seductively against the frame. Harry lets out a low whistle. Louis’s traded the tiny black shorts he was wearing for a white pair. He still has his braces on. Harry thinks it’s quite possible that he’s never seen a more perfect body in his life -- his smooth, golden torso tapers into a tiny waist, which flares into the perfect V of his hips and bows out to the round curve of his bum. He’s got an honest-to-God hourglass figure.
“Louis, you’re obscene.”
Louis bites his lip, mouth curving into a smile. He does a stupid spin. Harry pats his lap and Louis crawls on top of him without hesitation, bum settling neatly over Harry’s crotch. He’s nearly got a semi already.
Harry slides his hands down Louis’s back and over his bum, squeezing none-too-gently. Louis’s mouth falls open in a gasp, and Harry takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, pulling Louis in closer to him by his arse. Louis lets himself be manhandled, fingers tangling in Harry’s curls while his mouth is plundered. He tightens his thighs on Harry’s hips, thrusting forward so his erection is pressed tight against Harry’s abs.
Harry squeezes his arse one last time before pulling his mouth away to take off his shirt.
“Oh,” Louis breathes, admiring Harry’s body. It’s all a bit Adonis-like -- well-formed chest, rippling abdomen, broad shoulders and strong biceps, with a string of nonsensical tattoos scattered up and down his right arm. Louis ducks his head to suck a mark into the strong tendons of Harry’s neck, encouraged by the return of Harry’s huge hands to their rightful place on his arse.
“Can I fuck you?” Harry whispers.
Louis nods against his shoulder, and Harry pats his arse so he can tug off his shorts.
“Wish there was a way I could fuck you in these,” he says lowly, digging his thumb under the spandex to snap it against Louis’s thigh. Louis’s breath comes up sharp, head thrown back as Harry fits his huge hands around his arse, thumbs pressing into the dimples at the base of his spine, lifting Louis up so he has to brace his arms behind Harry on the couch. Harry shimmies the shorts down so they rest just below his bum, unclipping Louis’s braces and tossing them on the ground.
He’s still mostly dressed himself, with his pants pulled down just far enough to get his cock out. He takes Louis by the back of the neck and yanks him back down to sit on his lap. Louis’s been made warm and pliant, mouth opening easily when Harry presses two fingers against his bottom lip. He sucks them enthusiastically, and Harry wraps his other arm around Louis’s little waist, the crook of his elbow tight against Louis’s side, holding him close. Harry takes out of his fingers to brush them against Louis’s opening, just careful, teasing little touches until Louis grits out a “please.” Harry gives him a dirty grin and obliges, pressing in a finger, letting Louis get used to the stretch.
Louis’s mouth is hot and gasping against Harry’s neck when he presses in the second, deep and searching for his prostate. Louis whimpers when he finds it, clinging to Harry’s neck and knotting his fingers in the back of his curls.
“Fuck, Harry -- please --”
Harry shifts him over to one knee and Louis sort of collapses uselessly onto his chest while Harry fishes in his pocket for a condom. He gives it to Louis, who tears open the foil and rolls it onto Harry’s cock.
“Lube?” Harry asks.
“Eh, it’s all the way in my bedroom,” Louis says. “Here."
He slips to his knees between Harry’s legs and slicks him up with his mouth until he’s wet enough to make the slide a little more bearable. He climbs back onto Harry’s lap and spreads his knees until he’s positioned well enough that Harry can just push up into him. He holds Harry by the base of his cock and guides himself down slowly, wincing at the stretch. Harry takes him by the waist again, mesmerized by the way Louis fits so well in the crook of his arm. Louis tries to hold himself upright, braced on Harry’s shoulders, but he’s pulled down in a way that forces him to just lie against Harry’s chest and take it. He hugs Harry’s neck tightly as he’s fucked into, slow, deep thrusts that make him gasp at every brush of his prostate. Harry has a tight grip on the curve under his arse where it meets his thigh, holding Louis close as his hips snap into him, lips hot under Louis’s ear, whispering encouragements.
Louis’s busy muffling pleas against Harry’s shoulder when he hears the key jingling at the lock, followed soon after by the screeching sound of the door hinges. It’s Zayn.
“Honey, I’m home!” He sings loudly from the kitchen, dropping his keys loudly on the counter.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Louis whispers, peeling himself off Harry’s chest, staring frantically into his eyes, but they’re too late. Zayn appears in the archway between the kitchen and the living room, leaning against the wall with an infuriating, toothy grin, waggling his eyebrows.
“Oh, don’t you mind me, ya crazy kids,” he says. Harry closes his eyes. “I’ll just tip-toe off to my room, you won’t even notice me!”
“Would you please fuck off?” Louis moans.
“I mean...you’re fucking right in the middle of our shared living room, but sure! Of course, Louis! I’ll fuck off,” Zayn says tonelessly. Louis bites his lip, looking down at Harry, and mouths ‘I’m sorry.’
“Fine, we’ll move to my bedroom, alright, I’m sorry!” Louis calls after him when Zayn disappears into the kitchen to dig through their fridge.
“No, no, no, ignore me! I was never even here! I don’t want to inconvenience you lovebirds. Just keep doing what you do best, Lou!” Zayn winks sarcastically, passing by the couch on his way to his room, eating a bowl of cereal. He’s sure to give Louis a lingering once-over, winking at Harry over his shoulder.
“You little cunt!” Louis shouts. “If you’re going to be such a jealous twat about all this why don’t you just join in?”
Harry digs his thumbs into Louis’s hips warningly, shaking his head. Louis raises his eyebrows. “What, Harry?” He teases lowly, bringing his lips close to Harry’s ear. “I thought you wanted a package deal. Come on, please?” Louis begs, eyes big and blue and innocent. The cheeky, manipulative glint in his eye betrays him. “I’d let you both do whatever you want to me.”
He grinds down into Harry’s lap, feels his cock twitch inside him.
“And you have to admit he’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
Harry looks at Zayn over Louis’s shoulder. He’s leaning against the doorway, staring at Harry coolly, shoveling cereal into his mouth as though this is boring him .
“I don’t think your friend likes me very much, Lou. Think he’d rather keep you all to himself.” He stares at Harry as he says this, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Harry’s nails bite into Louis’s arse. Louis chuckles lightly against his neck.
“Tell him to come over here and fuck my mouth,” Louis whispers. Zayn winks at Harry from the doorway, setting his bowl onto the coffee table.
“Not if he’s going to be a dick about it,” Harry says, loud enough for Zayn to hear.
“Oh, please, Harry?” Louis begs. “Please? We’ll make it really good for you, I promise.”
“Yeah, Harry, please?” Zayn echoes. He flutters his eyelashes.
Harry has to admit they’re both two of the most exquisite looking people he’s ever seen. Zayn is almost Louis’s opposite -- tall and thin to Louis’s tiny curves, with tattoos scattered up and down his body. He’s got huge dark eyes and stunning cheekbones and long eyelashes and a steep quiff of black hair -- a startling contrast to Louis’s sweet blue eyes, his golden cheeks and fine, soft fringe. They’re both just so damn pretty. Harry’s cock twitches again.
“Alright, yeah,” he says, voice gravelly. “Suck him off, Lou.”
Louis’s eyes glitter dangerously. Zayn mirrors him, black-eyed and hungry, stepping up to the armrest. Louis turns so he’s still seated on Harry’s cock but pivoted so he can reach Zayn. Zayn takes Louis by the jaw and slips his thumb into his mouth. Louis accepts it with a sweet, submissive sort of grace, sucking gently under Harry and Zayn’s hot, heavy gazes. Harry squeezes at Louis’s arse because he’s been so busy watching their display that he’s forgotten to fuck him, and Louis starts moving again, slow, tiny circles in Harry’s lap.
Impatiently, Harry brings his hand down on Louis’s arse, grabbing at his hips to bounce him harder. Louis goes sort of limp as he’s fucked into, senses blurring from the combined push-pull of Zayn and Harry as they use him, gagging on Zayn’s cock every time Harry thrusts particularly hard.
“Let’s put him on his knees,” Zayn suggests casually. The slight roughness is in his voice is the only thing that gives how affected he really is. Harry lifts Louis off his lap like he weighs nothing, and Louis flushes all the way down his neck, trying to hide how turned-on he is at being manhandled so effortlessly. He’s flipped onto his hands and knees, head over the couch so that Zayn can easily resume fucking his mouth, and Harry pushes back into him.
“He likes it when you hold his hands behind his back,” Zayn says quietly, eyes burning into Harry’s. He strokes his thumb over Louis’s cheek, smiling when Louis’s eyes widen desperately at the prospect of being used like that. Harry takes a deep breath. He’s not sure how much he likes Zayn telling him how to fuck Louis; it reminds him that Zayn came first, and there’s something unsettling about him despite how pretty he is, but the idea is too hot to not go through with.
He pulls Louis’s arms back so they’re locked in a tight grip at the small of his back, biceps flexing, skin red and flushed as he struggles half-heartedly. The position gives him absolutely no control, because he longer has the leverage to suck Zayn’s cock. He can only take what’s given to him. Zayn grins at Harry, admiring the strength in his arms as he fucks mercilessly into Louis, the rippling muscles in his abdomen, his dark-eyed intensity and the way he bites his lip with concentration, curls falling into his face, slicking to his forehead with sweat. Louis chokes a little bit on Zayn’s cock every time Harry’s hips snap into him. His eyes water a little because he’s can’t get any friction on his cock, which is so hard it’s leaking precome onto his belly. He stares blue-eyed and desperate up at Zayn, but Zayn isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at Harry, hot and challenging, lip caught between his teeth as they both yank Louis between each other, stamina weakening second by second.
“Don’t come until I tell you,” Harry whispers. He’s talking to both of them. Zayn’s legs tremble. Louis’s mouth feels so good on him, hot and wet and pliant for him, throat loose so Zayn can just use him as he pleases. It takes everything in him not shoot down his throat then and there. Louis can only squeeze his eyes shut, keening pleadingly in his throat, sending little vibrations up Zayn’s cock.
Suddenly, Harry takes Zayn by the back of the neck and forces their mouths together. It takes Zayn a moment to kiss back, caught off guard by Harry’s aggression and his overwhelming need to come. Harry presses down firmly on Zayn’s neck, holding him by the jaw as they kiss, angry and battling for control. He thrusts into Louis particularly hard, forcing him to choke on Zayn’s cock.
It’s at this precise moment that Harry yanks gently at Zayn’s hair, pulling away just far enough to whisper “come,” dark and rough into the corner of his mouth. Something clenches in Zayn’s belly and he’s coming down Louis’s throat, thighs shaking through his orgasm, panting hot at Harry’s mouth as he releases himself. Louis struggles to swallow it all, come slipping down his chin as his throat works desperately, tears leaking at the corners of his eyes.
Harry yanks Louis back against his chest, arms still crushed behind his back, pressed tightly against Harry’s hard stomach. His head falls back against his shoulder, struggling for breath as Harry continues to pound into him, mouth hot at his neck.
“Please, Harry, please can I come, please--”
“Come on my cock.”
“I -- fuck, I don’t know--” Louis chokes.
“Come on my cock.”
Louis’s on the verge of tears, and his cock looks almost purple. Zayn, still shaking from his orgasm, watches mesmerized as Harry fucks him. Zayn doesn’t think he’s ever seen Louis so wrecked, and he doesn’t know who he’s more envious of -- Harry or Louis. Weakly, he kneels on the couch in front of Louis, taking his face in his hands and kissing him sweetly.
His thumb strokes over Louis’s cheek as he whispers into his mouth, “You can do it, Lou,” and Louis nearly sobs as his orgasm is ripped from him, cock spurting onto his belly without being touched, and he doesn’t know which hands are Zayn’s and which are Harry’s as he’s petted and caressed and comforted, fingers reverent on his cheeks and back, combing softly through his hair. Louis’s hands are finally released and he falls limply into Zayn’s arms, come wet on his belly.
“You did so good, Lou,” Zayn whispers. “Now can I have a turn?”
Louis laughs weakly, nodding. Zayn kisses his forehead and gestures at Harry to pull out.
Harry pulls out of him carefully. He still hasn’t come. Zayn stares wide-eyed at his cock, because he hasn’t actually seen the damn thing yet and it’s -- well, it’s big. Monstrously big. Terrifyingly huge. Intimidatingly gigantic.
“Shit,” he whispers.
“Yeah,” Louis sighs happily, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs into a wide V for Zayn to crawl between them. His cock lies pretty and limp against his belly. Zayn inches forward so that he can splay Louis’s legs across his lap, yanking him forward so he can tighten his thighs around Zayn’s waist.
“Be a doll and fetch Zayn another condom, would you, Harry?” Louis asks sweetly. Harry just sort of stares at them darkly, bringing attention to his cock, which is still standing straight and hard and angry for release.
“Zayn here’ll suck you off if you do,” Louis adds, looking at Zayn dangerously. Zayn shrugs.
“Yeah, mate. So be a doll, won’t you?”
Harry’s brow furrows unhappily, but he gets them a condom, handing it to Zayn reluctantly. Louis doesn’t take much prep this time, still open from Harry’s cock. Zayn slides into him easily, yanking Louis up his lap. His arms flop above his head, letting Zayn plough into him mercilessly, fingers digging bruises into his thighs, mouth falling open with cut-off little ah-ah-ah’s as his prostate is struck over and over.
Zayn stares up at Harry as he fucks him, eyes liquid-dark and challenging. Harry steps to the edge of the couch, fingers combing through Zayn’s hair as he watches Louis’s pretty face while he’s fucked, the flush of his cheeks and wet blue of his eyes, fringe clinging to his forehead with sweat.
“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Zayn says, voice tight with arousal. “He fucking loves this. He’s such a slut for it.” Harry just nods, tilting Zayn’s jaw up, thumb sweeping over his mouth and sliding between his lips, opening up Zayn’s mouth for his cock.
Zayn looks beautiful like this, still somehow insolent and stubborn even with a cock in his mouth. He sucks Harry hard, fist tight at the base, using just the slightest drag of teeth when he moves his lips down to suck at the head.
Louis whines a little, because sucking Harry’s cock has made Zayn’s thrusts lose their rhythm, so he grabs Louis’s by the hips, pressing bruises into the V, hands spread out over the bone, and fucks into him at a more brutal pace. Harry’s huge hand wraps around the back of Zayn’s neck as he fucks his mouth, finally spilling down his throat with a harsh shout, fingers knotting in Zayn’s hair as his hips stutter weakly.
Zayn gasps when Harry finally pulls out, streaking a bit of come across his cheek. Harry pushes his thumb back into Zayn’s mouth, enjoying the way Zayn’s eyes close, the way it feels like he’s finally surrendered to him. He leans down to kiss him, tasting himself, and Zayn pants weakly into his mouth, his second orgasm rising dangerously in his abdomen.
Harry kneels down next to the couch to take Louis’s cock in his hand, thumb stroking over the head. He’s already extremely hard, and he twitches in Harry’s hand.
Zayn spreads Louis’s legs impossibly wide as he continues to thrust into him, jolting Louis with every push. Harry moves on the couch behind Louis so that he’s cradled against his chest, lips at his ear and hand at his cock while Zayn fucks him through his second orgasm, cock spurting weakly into Harry’s hand, eyelashes spiky with tears at the combined sensation of aching soreness and pleasure as Zayn finally comes with a rough cry, orgasm rippling through him.
He bends over Louis’s body to kiss him, hot and deep and messy. Louis is so over-stimulated that he can barely muster the energy to kiss back, overwhelmed by Harry’s mouth on his neck, the sticky come on his belly, and the ache in his arse. He lets himself be kissed and taken care of, crushed between Harry and Zayn’s bodies.
Zayn meets Harry’s eyes, pink-cheeked. He takes Harry gently by the chin and pulls their mouths together sweetly. “Sorry I was a bit of a twat to you,” he whispers.
Harry smiles against his mouth. “S’alright, mate.” He rubs a bit of his leftover come into Zayn’s cheek, laughing cheekily.
“I’d say you more than made up for it.”
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