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It's not that he isn't opposed to his boyfriend putting on a show, fuck, he loves to watch Harry in all manner of ways.
He loves to watch him sleep, all puffy-lipped and dreamy, mouth open while he dreams. He loves to watch him sing, play piano, cook, and stroke his hair.
He loves to watch him come, beg to be touched, be fucked by other people, he loves watching him suck his cock on his knees and cry when he chokes on it.
He loves to watch him perform on stage and captivate an audience, to steal the show without even rehearsing.
One thing he doesn't enjoy is being made to feel jealous.
Which takes a fucking lot.
But when they're out in public, working, he and Harry, they don't speak, they have to stay opposite sides of the stage, not make eye contact, can't get too close.
They have to feed the public narrative that they are mortal enemies, and Larries ruined their friendship.
Friendship, friends are one thing they have never been. From the first time Louis saw Harry across the room, he could see how curious he was. And from the minute Harry pissed on him, he had never had the intention to be his friend.
But now he wasn't even allowed that privilege.
That's why he is jealous, not because he thinks Harry will run off with someone else, Harry can do what he wants, it's Louis arms he falls asleep in every night, sex is an act of pleasure, but the cuddles, the I love yous, the secrets shared in their bed, wherever that may be is for his eyes only.
So watching Harry grind on a bar on stage in front of thousands of people while Liam stands behind him slapping his ass, yeah, that makes him jealous.
Because Liam can.
Liam can touch, Zayn can touch, Niall can touch, they can flirt, slap his bum, lift up his top and pull his hair, they can talk to him and make him laugh and smile.
Louis can't, he can't even side glance at Harry because if he does, someone will have an article printed about how he and Eleanor are considering marriage, or make Harry go out on a date with the next up-and-coming Victoria's Secret model.
It isn't Harry's fault, shit, it isn't even Liam's, but Louis wants to punch someone or something, because sure, his and Harry's relationship isn't for the world to see, or have an opinion on, but it would be nice for them to have some form of a relationship for people to have an opinion on. Because what they have at the moment is two people who are meant to hate each other.
Louis doesn’t hate Harry, he isn't sure he would ever be capable, even if they did split one day, and Harry found someone new, Louis would never be able to find it inside himself to hate him.
To be honest, he isn't sure what to call the feeling he feels for Harry, love doesn't sound like the right word. It's bigger than that. Hell, it's bigger than him most days.
So yes, he is jealous, extremly fucking jealous becuase Harry is griding on a bar on stage, in a stadium infront of fifty thousand people, his blouse of half undone, his jeans are sprayed on, and he has his head tipped back looking like he is getting fucked, and Liam has been stood behind him slapping his ass and Louis is one more song away from shoving his dick down Harrys throat to show them all who he belongs to.
He can't do that, and Harry knows he can't. He also knows Louis is getting pissed off and is, one hundred percent doing it to make him jealous.
So he tries to ignore it, tries not to let it get to him, but Harry is on thin fucking ice, and you would think he would be happy given the news they got yesterday, Louis and Eleanor’s break-up article is being printed as they sang.
He was over the moon last night, had dropped to his knees in the dressing room and sucked Louis off right there and then before Paul had even clicked the door shut.
The music for the next song starts and Louis has to take a deep breath and clench his jaw because Harry is a fucking nightmare when they sing No Control, and with the way he's behaving right now, Louis is going to get hard on stage.
They start singing and Harry might as well have a pole the way he's hanging off the bar.
Leaning back, arching slightly, head tipped up, exposing his throat, chest, and tummy.
He takes it so far as to slut drop and hang off the bar one-handed, and Louis is fucked.
So fucking fucked.
They end the show with What Makes You Beautiful, and the juxtaposition of Harry singing such an innocent song when two minutes later he was getting off on a bar is lost to the audience.
Not to Louis though.
Liam beckons Harry over and wraps his arm around him, smirking at Louis and that’s his final straw.
Not for poor Liam, but Louis needs to get off this stage and calm down because if he gets left alone with Harry right now, they are both fucked.
The second the song stops, before the lights are even down, and the crowd can start screaming, he's gone.
He hears Niall call after him, but he doesn't care. He's storming off down the backstage pass and towards their dressing room.
He needs a smoke, or a spliff, and Harry bent over and whimpering and not exclusively in that order.
“Louis”, he hears someone call. He grits his teeth because he isn't in a good head space right now, and although it isn't Liam's fault, he can't help but be pissed at him too, “Lou”
He swings round and almost topples into him “What Liam?”
“Oi, calm down, just wanted to make sure you're ok?”
Louis stands there, hands on his hip,s tapping his foot, eyeing Liam.
“You know what, I'll come find you later?”
“Good idea, lad”, he says, turns round and is storming off towards their dressing room again.
He doesn't bother locking the door. He knows Harry will be busting through any second now, all gangly legs and fluttering eyelashes, acting all innocent, wanting Louis’ attention to offload those post-show endorphins.
Louis has plans for him alright, he has lots of ways to help Harry let off steam.
He pulls out his pre-rolled joint and sparks it up to calm down first, then he pulls out the little bag of coke he knows Harry will come looking for when he gets back.
Louis isn't so cruel as to deprive Harry of his little after-show treat, but he is going to decide how he gets it.
He's had fantasies of Harry sniffing a line off his cock for years, ever since he watched Harry do his first one. And tonight he's going to do just that, and choke Harry on it afterwards, so he quickly pockets it.
Teach him to act like a fucking slut on stage, like he's the community hole. Realistically, he knows if he could touch and interact with Harry, he would have no issue with this, but considering he can’t, he is pissed.
He isn't possessive, not in that sense. He has no issue with what Harry does with his body, but it's the ‘not being able to touch what he can see’ that sends him into the spiral.
He slumps down on the plush black sofa in their dressing room, spreading his legs as wide as they go, running a hand through his hair as he leisurely smokes his spliff, letting the smoke fill his lungs and get him nice and relaxed.
He gets three whole minutes before Harry spills into the room like a drunk teenage girl. He slams the door shut behind him and leans back against it.
He stays there, hands behind his back, leaning on the door with his ankles crossed in front of him, looking the picture of innocence with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Louis tips his head back until it hits the sofa and blows the smoke out of his mouth.
That lip belongs to Louis, “stop biting your lip H,” he says, side-eyeing him, but Harry ignores him and chews on it harder.
Louis has no patience left. He brings the spliff to his lips again and tilts his head this time to watch Harry, letting him know he’s not in the mood.
But they both already know he isn't.
That does the trick, and Louis knows, he knows the suspense is killing Harry, and he is intrigued, almost excited to see how ignoring Harry will make him behave.
Now, if this were a proper argument, Harry would have given up by now and found new ways to garner Louis' attention, usually by slamming the door and going out for the night with Nick, or Kendall, properly grinding all over someone in a club or letting them grope him and letting people take pics for Louis to see all over the internet.
He knows it's toxic to a degree, but that’s them, and he wouldn't change Harry's petty ass, or his own jealous one for anything else in the world. He chose Harry at eighteen and he said he was sticking with him.
Fucking hell, he loves him too much to ever leave.
But that’s the thing, this wasn't an argument, this was one-sided, Harry wanted attention, and Louis was pissed off because he was going about getting it the wrong way.
One thing was guaranteed: Louis would be giving Harry all his attention tonight and Harry knew that.
“Baby, are you trying to piss me off more, or are you just looking to get punished?”
Harry continues to ignore him and simply chews on his lip, still batting his eyelashes back at Louis.
“Don't know what you mean Boo.”
Louis brings the spliff to his lips again and inhales deeply. Ah, so it’s going to be like this, he thinks, being all sweet will get him what he wants, how sweet.
And fucking stupid, it has never worked before and it won't be working now.
“Come here baby,” Louis says, beckoning him over with his index and middle fingers holding the smoke.
Harry pushes off the door without hesitation, and Louis watches him like a hawk, not that he has taken his eyes off Harry all evening, impossible not to in all honesty when he’s whoring himself round the stage like he does.
He stands between Louis' spread legs and looks down at him, and fuck, Louis cock twitches, because how can it not, Harry is stood in front of him, all long limbs, open shirt, sweaty long curls hanging around his face, eyes blown wide from the high of performing, and the light above his head shrouding him like a halo.
But he’s no angel, never has been, for angels are the picture of innocence, of purity, of good, and as much as Harry can be, oh so very, very good, he is equally as bad, so no, he may look like an angel, but he is the devil in Louis’ brain telling him daily that just a little taste is all he needs.
But that's the problem with temptation, it becomes an addiction, and once you have scratched the itch, it’s almost impossible not to go back and continue the action. It feels too good to only do it once and never go back.
Harry is exactly that, Louis's itch, and fuck if he doesn't scratch it, he becomes agitated. You wouldn't take an alcoholic to a pub, and that's the thing, isn’t it? Harry is Louis’ Achilles heel, his weakness, and Harry knows this too, uses it to his own advantage to manipulate and get whatever he wants, like the spoiled little brat he is.
Louis will be reminding him how spoiled brats get treated.
He leans his arm over the back of the sofa and continues to smoke his spliff at a leisurely pace. He loves how the suspense will eat Harry alive. “Daddy’s cocks a little cold, baby. I think we should put that mouth of yours to good use, hmmm.”
Harry's breath hitches, just slightly, only noticeable to Louis really, who knows him inside out, and he knows the game is on.
“Kneel Harry.” His tone is perfectly impassive, just the right amount of edge to get Harry riled up.
His praise kink will kick in any second now.
He does, sinks to the threadbare carpet, knees hitting the floor with a dull thud, and he's scrambling to undo Louis' belt and get him out. His hands are shaky, and Louis should calm him, tell him to go easy, he doesn't need to rush, but he won't. Because Harry brought this on himself, and every action has a reaction, and he is about to face them.
He is always so eager to please when they start playing.
He finally pulls Louis out and like the good boy he can be, places both his hands behind his back, crosses them at the wrist and sinks his mouth around Louis.
It took them both a while to figure out how this worked. You see, the first time they tried it as a punishment, Louis had struggled not to moan and fuck into Harry's mouth, and Harry had struggled not to suck Louis like his favourite lollipop. They had both failed miserably, and Louis had come in less than three minutes and Harry had come in his pants untouched.
Now, though, they have mastered it down to a fine art. Louis stays deliberately indifferent as Harry's warm mouth engulfs him until he hits the back of his throat, refusing to even alter his breathing.
He schools his features and continues to smoke his joint without so much as looking at Harry, and he knows this is what Harry's been craving to, because despite the fact he acts like he doesn't need all Louis' attention all the time, he does.
And sometimes, if he feels a little lost or insecure, he will act out to make sure he is front and center for Louis to see, and he doesn't really care how he does it.
Harry kneels there, and he is fucking beautiful, mouth stuffed full of Louis's cock, eyes gone wide, cheeks flushed, dribble down his chin, and he’s messy with it, but Louis knows he loves this.
They both do, and Louis won't touch, won't even acknowledge that he’s got his pretty plump lips wrapped round his cock, he’ll sit here and finish his smoke.
He picks up his phone and opens up Twitter, might as well see what the internet has to say about Harry's antics this evening. He thinks this might be fun.
“Let's see the,n Harry, ah, hazzyquins: why is no one talking about Harry riding that bar like he’s on horseback?” he scoffs. This is the first thing he sees when he opens his feed, and he isn't even surprised.
Harry is looking up at him, and he can see him squirming, which is interesting.
Louis scrolls down until he finds some more, “Harryisabottom.” Louis laughs at that. He is a whiny, greedy little bottom indeed. “They say, do we think Louis is gonna spank Harry after the show for being a brat?” he draws from his spliff again, blowing the smoke down in Harry's direction. “Oh, look at that baby, it's like they know us.” Harry moans around Louis's cock and wiggles a little, and Louis can't have that, “Harry, behave,” he says it with a stern edge to his voice,
“Oh ok, this ones funny, Passinatelou says I just want to know why the fuck he thought this was necessary.” He turns the camera around to show Harry the gif of him unzipping his jeans on stage. “Why did you think this was necessary, baby? Look, they tweet about you again’ Remember when Zayn shoved a microphone up Harry’s ass?’ You remember that baby?”
Yes, he does remember. He made Harry suck on that microphone while he ate him out that night.
“Oh, this username is funny baby.” he looks down and smirks, “prostatrry says: she just wants her pussy rubbed, and she doesn't care who's watching” Louis does though. He looks down at Harry as spit runs down the sides of his face, “Is that right baby? Just want me to rub your pussy?”
Harry looks up at him and he could keep going, could keep telling him what people say about him online, but Louis fears he is actually getting off of the degradation and the aim is to edge the fuck out of the little cum pig, and not give him what he wants. So he locks his phone and stubs out his spliff.
He can see Harry falling comfortably into the role, kneeling on the floor, subtly rocking back and forth to gain some type of friction and nope, Louis isn't about to let that happen.
So he grabs Harry by his hair and pulls him off his cock. He would be lying if he said the sight of the string of salvia from his tip to Harry's lips doesn't have him needing to grip the base of his cock.
“Oh baby, look at you”, he pulls a little harder on Harry's hair and Harry moans. He doesn't even try to hide it. Louis can see how hard he is, and he must be fucking gagging for it right now. “Brats get punished, wanna tell me why you felt it necessary to show the audience your boxers, and to grind on the bar like a little whore.”
“Daddy…”
Louis isn't having that, “Daddy, isn't very happy with you Harry, so I think we should take our time this evening.” He lets go of Harry's hair, and stands up, pulling his jeans and boxers off completely, then he lifts his arms over his head and pulls his top off, throwing it on the floor next to Harry.
He sits back down, spreading his legs again so his cock stands upright in front of Harry's face. “Want it baby?” his voice edged with sarcasm.
Harry nods and makes a needy whining sound, and Louis thinks he needs to get Harry a little more riled up first. Fuck it, Louis fancies partaking this evening, might take a line or two off of Harry's perky little tits. He’s worked so hard lately to get them big and bouncy, might as well give them the attention they deserve.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Lou, Harry! The vans here, we’ve gotta go.” Louis rolls his eyes, fucking Liam needs to do one this evening, “Why is the door locked guys?”
“Because Harry is warming my cock Liam, tell Paul to send a separate one if he wants us on stage tomorrow night.”
He hears Liam sigh and grumble as he stomps away, but he doesn't care, because Harry's dropping and he’s so beautiful when he’s like this.
He leans down and pulls out the little bag of coke from under the couch cushion and dangles it in front of Harry's face, “Want a little something to take the edge off baby?”
Harry nods, panting at the thought of getting high and fucked, and good, Louis has him right where he wants him.
He gets down on the floor and kneels in front of Harry. He leans in and bites at his neck, sinks his teeth in and sucks, feeling Harry melt under him.
Fuck he is too easy to rile up. “You want it so bad, you have to sniff it off Daddy's cock then”
Harry moans under him, grinding forward and Louis can feel his own cock rubbing against Harry’s. He grabs a hold of Harry around the neck, squeezing just a little, not hard enough to cut off his air supply properly, but enough to restrict it and he gets the desired effect.
“If you want to come at all tonight Harry, I suggest you stop” Harry's eyes are glazed over, he’s gone now. He has a one-track mind right now, that’s Louis, and cumming, but despite that, he instantly stops.
Louis picks up the coke again and looks down, he’s rock hard, hard enough he can easily rack up a little line and get Harry to sniff it off. He knows it's something they can do. He’s watched Harry do it before, off other people, while he watched.
See, Harry would normally come off stage, sniff a line or two, suck Louis off and then they would head back. So Louis knows he’s desperate for his post-show treat.
He opens the bag and feels Harry's eyes tracking him. He hasn't stopped watching him since he stepped into the room, but right now it feels different, more intense somehow. Like Louis is the only thing in the entire world he wants, who can give him what he needs, and it's true, he is. But Harry’s the same for him, and fuck if he isn't whipped for his baby.
He stands up so his cock is directly in front of Harry's face.
“Hold Daddy's cock nice and still baby. If you move it, it will tip your treat off.” Louis leans down so his mouth is right over Harry's. “Be a good boy, I know it's a hard concept for you to follow, baby.”
He stands back up and Harry grabs hold of his tip pulling him tight and Louis has to stifle a moan. He won't give Harry the satisfaction that he has any effect on him at all right now. “Good boy Harry, look at you, think you should take your top off so Daddy can see your pretty tits, don't you?”
Harry nods and quickly strips his blouse off before going back to his task of holding Louis's cock still.
Louis's mouth waters as he stares at Harry's tits. He drags his eyes down and slowly tips a line of coke out along his cock. He looks back up and Harry is practically drooling. “Want it sunshine?”
“Please”, he whimpers and Louis nods.
Harry doesn't second-guess. In a second, he’s dipped his head down and is sniffing the white line right off Louis’s cock. He’s like a man starved for it, and Louis's tip blurts out precum watching him. Harry pulls back and swallows Louis whole.
He should tell him off, should grab him by the hair and rip him off, but fuck, it feels so good, so he lets himself enjoy it for a moment. But Louis didn't say he could suck him off, so Harry will get punished for this now.
He grabs a hold of Harry's long curls and pulls him back, tilting his head back so he is forced to look up at Louis. He sticks his tongue out as if asking for more, but he’s been a fucking brat, even now, when he has all of Louis’ undivided attention, he is still being an attention-seeking whore.
“Did I say you could do that Harry?” He makes sure to sound as pissed off as possible. He knows it will have Harry practically grinding into the floor.
“No”, Harry says and Louis tightens his grip in his hair, ignoring the way Harry moans low in his throat as he does.
“No What?” he asks, and now he doesn't even have to try, he is pissed off
“No, Daddy”
“Look at you, my desperate little whore, do anything for a cock won’t you Harry?” Harry nods where he's knelt, and Louis can't help but stare at his tits, fuck, he loves his tits.
It was so strange to begin with, because it kinda happened overnight. Harry had been in the gym and working hard, and Louis had even been joining him.
Then one day, when he was riding him, they were just there bouncing in his face, and Louis couldn't help himself.
He wouldn't say he is the kind of guy to have a fetish, but fucking hell, he has one for Harry's tits, to the point he is seriously considering buying him a matching set to see how pretty he would look dressed up in lace and sheer fabrics bouncing up and down on his cock.
He lets go of Harry's hair, ignoring his whine, “Gonna let Daddy use you, baby?”
Harry doesn't need to answer; he's nodding with his mouth open like the slut he is.
Louis picks up the coke again and pushes Harry back down until he is lying flat on his back. He tips some of the powDer OUT onto Harry's tits and makes it into a neat line.
He looms over him, feeling how he squirms underneath him and Louis can't have that. He might spill his little treat. So he grabs Harry's wrists in one hand and pins them above his head to still him.
“If you move Baby, you will spill Daddy's treat, and you don't want to make me more angry then i already am, do you baby?”
Harry takes his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head. That will do for Louis right now, so he dips his head and sniffs up the line right off Harry's tit. He’s using him like a toy right now, and he knows if he’s this turned on, then Harry must be in pain right now.
Good.
He can't help himself then, he starts to lick over his chest and takes his nipple into his mouth, biting down hard and tugging.
He wasn't a tit man, but fuck, he is now.
“Daddy, please, please, need you” Louis pops off his nipple, dragging it through his teeth as he does to give Harry that delicious torture he loves.
“Oh, now you need me?” That's rich, he didn't need him earlier when he was getting felt up by Liam on stage.
He stands up then, looking down at Harry on the floor, he has a nice bruise forming on his tit, and his chest has gone red and splotchy from where Louis has been licking, biting, and groping him.
He turns around and makes his way over to Harry's bag, pulling out the lube, “trousers off and over the sofa arm now, before Daddy loses interest in you”
He would like to say he wishes their dynamic were different, more conventional, but that would be a lie. He loves it just as much as Harry, fuck Harry needs it, and to a degree, Louis thinks he understands it.
They have no control over their lives, they are told where to go, how to speak, what to say, what to wear, who they can and can't speak to, Jesus, Louis can’t even hold his boyfriend’s hand in the day light, but in this space, in this world, it’s just them and they can control the narrative however they like.
No one tells them how to run a scene or how to fuck, they make those decisions and it's as easy as breathing, slipping into these roles because when Louis is calling Harry baby and being rough with him, he gets to control the pace, but ultimately Harry calls all the shots in this scenario.
That's the bit he gets, because he finally gets to claw back some control in his life.
Louis rips open the travel lube packet with his teeth, spitting a piece of foil onto the floor. Harry has stripped off completely and is bent in half over the sofa arm, ass up, head down, hands crossed behind his back and struggling not to grind himself into the side of the sofa.
Louis steps in behind him, crowding him against the furniture and grabs a handful of his ass. It's so soft and plump and maybe later, when Harry has been fucked raw a few times, and can't take anymore, Louis will eat him out, just because he can.
He draws back and lands a hard slap to Harry's ass.
Harry jolts forward, moaning again. “Oh baby, wanna talk about you being a whore to piss Daddy off now?”
Harry nods into the cushion, “Yess Daddy”
Louis smirks down at him, dribbling some lube directly onto his hole without warning him and shoves his index finger in upto his knuckle. He uses his other hand to smooth over the already reddening skin of the cheek he just slapped.
He is so hard it fucking hurts, and he needs to get inside Harry soon.
“Okay baby, I'm going to list everything you did tonight that pissed me off and give you a slap for each one. I want you to count, if you break, or try to grind into the sofa at all, I'll stop and start again. Understand?”
He stands there, adding his middle finger inside Harry, waiting for him to respond. When he doesn't, Louis smacks him again.
“Harry?”
“Yes, Daddy, I understand”
“Good boy”, he says, although Harry is the furthest thing from a good boy.
He starts to thrust his fingers in faster, revelling in how tight Harry feels, it's magnetising. Harry starts to rock back as he sets a rhythm and that's when Louis lands another hard slap to his ass. “Thats for showing the crowd your boxers”
Harry moans as he counts “one”
Louis soothes over the skin, before he slaps him again, “That's for grinding on the bar like a whore”
“Two”
Slap
“For letting Liam slap your ass”
“Three”, Harry moans, and he must be getting close because he is rocking back on Louis' fingers so hard, and Louis knows if he brushes his prostate, he’ll come and he isn't going to let that happen, so he stops and pulls his fingers out.
Harry whines and turns his head round to look up at Louis. He’s sweaty, curls sticking to his forehead, eyes glazed over with tears about to fall, face bright red and flushed.
“Daddy, please”, Louis scoffs. Absolutely not, he isn't finished.
Slap
“Thats for letting Zayn pull up your top and play with your tits.”
“Four”
He knows he could do more, fuck they have gotten to thirty before making Harry cum twice, and he still wanted more, but they are short on time. He knows Paul will be back soon and if he doesn't fuck the brat out of his boy, he’s going to be a grumpy fucker himself.
He slaps him one more time because he can. Harry moans a “five” into the crook of his arm.
Louis grabs hold of both his cheeks and pulls them apart. His hole is glistening from the lube, fuck he has to stop himself from sinking to his own knees to eat him out.
He grabs the lube and drizzles it onto his cock before sliding right in. He wastes no time bottoming out. Harry was made to take him and they both moan when he does.
Harry pushes back and wiggles his ass against Louis to make him move. He’s an impatient little whore, so Louis slaps his other cheek hard.
Harry screams, “How many is that, H?”
“Six, Daddy”
Louis stands there letting Harry warm his cock a little while longer. He knows he loves to be used, so that's exactly what he'll do, use him like the desperate little cum pig he is. He starts groping his cheeks; he is obsessed with Harry's ass. He should be allowed to stay buried in him all the time.
He slowly inches out, keeping his grip tight on Harry's hips, hard enough he’ll leave marks. Marks he knows Harry will feel later when he’s getting dressed, or when he has to go and stunt. That's why he leaves them, places no one can see but Harry, marks that are like a claim, ones that when he pulls up his jeans will rub and remind him exactly who he belongs to.
Marks, that when someone else touches him, he will rub and know he is just as much Louis’s and Louis is his.
That's why they have the tattoos. Pain is the pleasure. They gave each other parts no one else can have; their love is equal parts pleasure and pain, so why not add a few more elements of physical pain to that, but permanently inking them into their skin?
He slams back into Harry with such force that the sofa groans as it moves forward. Harry has to grab hold of the arm, screaming as Louis hits his prostate dead on.
They are fucked, neither one of them will last long, it's been too long since he last fucked his boy, hence the acting out. So he intends to go back to the hotel and make him feel special, after he’s finished teaching him a lesson.
He pulls out again, only to slam in again harder and the sofa moves again. Harry has to push back with force to stop it from moving away from him completely.
“Daddy, please, Daddy, wanna cum.”
He keeps thrusting into him, using his body as his little toy. He uses his thumbs to pull apart Harry's cheeks again, watching as his greedy little hole sucks him in, and fuck, he wants to cum too.
He grips a hold of Harry's hair and pulls his head up, leaning down to whisper in his ear, slowing his pace a little but not his force. He makes sure to hit Harry’s prostate with every thrust.
That's when he realises he doesn't have a plug on him, shit.
“Do you think you should get to come baby?”
He’s already decided he will let him, but Harry doesn't know that.
“Please, daddy, I’ll be a good boy, promise” he knows it’s a lie, they both do. He will absolutely do it again, he gets off on being punished too much.
Louis pushes his head down again so he’s practically bent in half over the sofa arm, pushing his head into the sofa cushion, picking up his pace, "Don't" thrust “ tell” thrust “lies” thrust “Harry”
He’s so close, he can feel it pooling in his tummy. The room is filled with their moans and the sound of sweaty skin slapping against skin, fuck, he wishes he could film it.
Not to self- film themselves. He needs an up-to-date one to be honest, the last one was from last year in Brazil and as sexy as it was having Harry ride him in that hotel room, it was a bit vanilla.
“Fuck Baby, you feel so good, such a good whore for Daddy, aren’t you? When you want to be, wish you could see yourself, suck me in so good, such a greedy little slut, bet you wish they could see you like this”
He isn't even sure what he’s saying anymore, he is just letting his mouth run away from him now knowing it’s what Harry needs to get to the finish line. Fuck he’s terrible, even when he’s pissed off at him, he can't help but make sure his baby’s needs are met.
Fucking whipped.
“Imagine if all your fans could see this, what would they say Harry?”
He mumbles something into the sofa, but Louis can't hear him. “Sexy, confident Harry Styles, the womaniser of the century, bent over a sofa and being split open by Louis Tomlinson's big cock, begging to come because the only person who can give him what he needs is his Daddy.”
He closes his eyes, he needs Harry to come first, so he pulls him up by his hair so his back is flush to his chest and he changes his angle so he is thrusting up into Harry and the scream he lets out as he wraps his arms around the back of Louis neck to hold on is like music to his ears.
“That's it baby, breathe, breathe, breathe for me, yeah, so good for Daddy, wanna come baby?”
Harry's gone now, he’s floated to that place he goes, he’s lost to the haze of his own mind, so Louis will talk him through it, “Come for daddy”
And he does, shoots all over the arm of the sofa and some up his own chest. Louis’ mouth waters at the thought of licking it off him, but he whites out as Harry tightens his own grip on Louis’ hair and well, he has his own little pain kink too. You don't get a giant tattoo over your collar bones if you don't.
He comes inside Harry and uses his spent body as he keeps thrusting in him to finish.
The second he’s finished, he turns Harry round and lies him on the sofa on his back, he gathers the come leaking out of his hole and starts to feed it to him, even in his foggy state he still knows what he wants, his eyes are barely open but he lies there mouth open tongue out waiting for his treat.
He swallows it all, and Louis is quite sure that if he could, he’d ask for more. He looks like an angel, a beautiful, beautiful angel. He could wear all the Gucci or all the designers in the world, but nothing can compare to when he's naked.
Louis finishes feeding Harry the cum that's leaking out of him and they lie there for a moment. This is the bit Louis loves the most, though, because now he gets to treat him with the delicate care he deserves.
He places himself on Harry's chest and wraps his arms around him, “did so good baby, so perfect, so good.”
Harry pulls himself closer to Louis, turning them onto their sides, and he wraps his legs around him like a little koala.
They must fall asleep because the clatter of metal and a loud banging on the door startles Louis awake.
They have shifted in their sleep and Harry is on top of him, his puffy lips letting out little huffs of air against his neck. Louis brushes his curls back off his face as the banging on the door sounds again.
Bang Bang bang “Louis, you have five minutes to get your asses to the van or I'm leaving you here” he sits up, careful to leave Harry where he is.
“Coming”, he shouts, getting up and shucking on his jeans and top quickly, he uses the blanket to cover Harry up and opens the door to see Paul standing there, looking rather unhappy to be honest.
“Yes?” he says, pulling out his cigarettes and sparking one up.
“Louis, I know it isn't easy, kid, but this is taking the piss a bit. I have a life too, and would like to enjoy what is left of my evening, please.”
And yeah, ok that’s fair, Paul does have a wife and kids, Louis isn't an unreasonable guy. He sighs, dragging the smoke out of his nose and looks back over at Harry. He would very much like to be in a bed, cuddling rather than that sofa.
“Sorry, Paul, I'll wake him up and we'll be out in five ok.”
Paul nods and closes the door behind him. Louis puts out his cigarette and sighs.
They need some fucking time off and soon…