Work Text:
"How high is the sexual tension in the room?"
The sentence caught Harry right off guard. He shot a disbelieving look at Louis. "Uh...come again?"
With a small smirk on his face, Louis looked back down at his phone. "Tumblr user 'onlyhalfaharry' asked, 'How high is the sexual tension in the room?'" Louis set his phone down on his lap with short, nimble fingers, shooting Harry an amused yet vaguely mischievous look. His blue eyes met the green of Harry's, who tore his gaze away, cheeks flushing.
"Um," Harry started, opening his mouth to speak. A billion words circulated in his mind but the only one that came out was "Uhhh?" So he closed his mouth again, and he swore someone could get a first-degree burn just by standing too close to his cheeks.
The sexual tension was always high for Harry when it came to Louis, or just tension in general for that matter. On most days when he had nothing to do he would scroll through Louis' YouTube videos sleepily. Of course he would laugh - Lou's sense of humor was golden - but sometimes he would turn the volume all the way down just to watch Louis and admire the way his pretty blue eyes glittered and the way his sharp cheekbones flexed as he spoke and the way his plump pink lips would peel back to reveal perfect white teeth when he smiled. His skin was so nice; it was smooth, as if it had been airbrushed to perfection, and it wasn't too tan nor too fair. Sometimes Harry would imagine letting the tips of his fingers graze it, relishing in the silk-like feel of every freckle, every contour.
(On other days he would get himself off to that pretty little face, but that's beside the point.)
Harry and Louis had only started communicating a little less than four weeks ago. They were both big time YouTubers, which explains the fact of them never meeting beforehand, but an innocent "hey, let's go out for coffee sometime" text from Louis led to them being a little more than acquaintances. They hit it off from the start, their unique personalities peculiarly compatible, and that sparked the interest of many of their mutual subscribers. The fans liked to mash their two names together and whenever someone was on the topic of Harry and Louis they simply referred to them as "Larry Stylinson."
Larry Stylinson. Harry wasn't complaining, oh no. He thought it was the cutest thing. Louis didn't give his input much, only joked about it lightly when it was mentioned, so Harry never brought it up. It was fine, though, because they had a strong friendship that only took a few days to blossom and neither of them wanted to ruin it.
It was Harry's idea to do a collaboration video, but it was Louis' to suggest Q&A. They were doing good, being asked many mindless questions and many other ones about their friendship. But this one, this one measly question, had the curly-headed lad stumped. He continued sitting there, stuttering like an idiot, because the sexual tension on his side of the couch was extremely high. He didn't want to assume the same for Louis, though. Of course it wasn't the same.
Louis had his eyes on Harry's nervous figure the whole time, small sounds of amusement leaving his lips as the younger lad struggled to find a vocabulary. After a while of mindless babbling, Harry shot him a panicked look, to which Lou laughed aside.
"I think those are all the questions we have time for," Louis concluded, the teasing smile prominent in his voice. He turned his attention to the camera, grinning, while Harry's attention was glued to his lap. He was mortified. Knowing Louis, the boy would jab him with his elbow and make a light joke about it. Harry would laugh for an unnecessarily long time before clearing his throat and whispering a faint "it's nothing." Louis would then open his mouth to say something, close it, open it, close it again, and lightheartedly change the subject, leaving the sense of "we'll talk about this later" in the air, even though they never would.
While he was turning off the camera, Louis looked up from under his eyelashes questioningly. "What had you so tongue-tied, Hazza?" The nickname flowed smoothly from his lips and definitely didn't help Harry's flustered edge.
Harry let out a loud laugh as if it were the funniest thing, tossing his head back and slapping his knee and letting his dimples jump out of his cheeks before he cleared his throat, stood up, and mumbled, "It's nothing, Lou." He grabbed his empty cup which was filled with warm milk before the video started and retreated to the kitchen to get more.
When he was pouring the cream into his cup, he felt Louis tap him in the rib with his skinny little elbow. "It's not just nothing that has you blushing like mad, Harold," Lou said in a light tone. He hopped up on the counter next to Harry and swung his legs childishly, tilting his head. Cute. That's what he was. He was cute. So unbearably cute that Harry had to angle his face away to grin into his own shoulder.
"It doesn't matter, Boo," Harry promised, taking a sip of his milk before setting it on the counter and facing the older boy.
"It matters to me," Louis whined, his lower lip jutted out in a pout. He hopped off of the counter and stood directly in front of Harry. He looked like he was trying to be intimidating, but the fact that Harry had at least three inches on him just made him appear exceedingly and impossibly cute.
When Harry didn't answer, Louis' tone changed. "Heh, I was telling Zayn about our collab video and he goes, 'I swear that bloke has the hots for you, Tomlinson.' I was like, 'Well, I am pretty damn irresistible.'" Harry just swallowed hard. That's when Louis grabbed his arm gently and mumbled, "Why do you do this, Haz?"
Harry kept his eyes away from Lou, knowing he'd keel with one look into those cerulean blue orbs. Instead he placed his cup up to his lips, mumbling, "Do what?"
Louis frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "Do, like, the thing. The thing when someone mentions us being a thing, and you get all weird and nervous about it. Then when I ask you what's wrong, you just laugh incessantly and then go, 'It's nothing.' It's nothing, Boo Bear. It's nothing, Lou. It's nothing, my love. It's not nothing, Harold, and we both know it."
Harry set his cup down and looked away, cheeks burning. He was currently at a loss for words - Louis never addressed this. But, here he was, calling the younger one out, and Harry was stuck. After a while, Harry mumbled brokenly, "You're right, it's not nothing." He pulled himself out of Louis' gentle grip, which hadn't moved for a few long minutes. "But it wouldn't be important either way."
When Harry reached the entrance of the kitchen, Louis' small, broken voice rose up slightly: "You're disgusted with the thought of being with me, aren't you?"
Harry's feet froze to the ground. He could have laughed because it was the complete opposite of what it really was. He turned back to Louis, who had his head down and was clenching his tiny hands into fists. "Because, like.. you just, you act like it's such a bad thing, and..."
Harry frowned, instantly rushing to Louis' side. He placed his hands on Lou's shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other. Louis looked so small, eyes laced with anger and pain and something else that Harry didn't want to place. "No," he whispered, Louis' eyes finally meeting his own, "that isn't it."
"Then what is it, Harry?"
Harry blinked, and the same speechless mindset that Louis frequently brought him to returned. He opened his mouth, but only a squeak came out, so he shut it like a drawbridge. Louis frowned, shrugging Harry's hands off of him.
"Fine. It's whatever, anyways."
He started to walk away, but Harry reached out and grabbed onto his arm. "Louis, p-please-"
Louis whipped around, and Harry caught the hurt in his eyes. "Just...I want to know."
Just as Harry predicted; one look into those eyes, and he was gone. He started rambling about the whole thing; how when they first met Harry's heart was bouncing out of his chest, and how Harry would go home and watch his YouTube videos and laugh and admire him, and how before Louis came over he had changed outfits three times just to make sure he looked okay for him, for his school girl crush, for the love of his life.
And after all that, Louis just stood there with a stupid fucking smile on his face. A mocking smile, that's what it was. A smile that said "wow, you're a fucking idiot." A smile that said "sorry, asshole, you're on your own." A smile that was getting closer and closer to Harry's little frown, and Harry didn't realize it until the warm smell of mint and cinnamon hit his nose.
"Oh, Harry," Louis chuckled, "you're so...so cute. So extremely cute."
Harry was blushing, but he forced himself to turn away, tears prickling at the rims of his eyes. He couldn't believe Louis was so extremely and insipidly cruel that he would tease Harry about this. "I get the fact that it's embarrassing. You don't have to be like that, alright? Look, maybe you should just-"
He was silenced by Louis' lips meeting his. Oh. He wasn't sure how to react, and he wasn't even sure if it was real, but the taste of the soft pink lips he'd only dreamed of touching were flush against his and it only drove him forward.
His hands grabbed onto the bottom of Louis' shirt and pulled him closer until their chests were touching. Without a moment's hesitation Louis' gentle hands snuck up and locked themselves in Harry's unruly curls. Their lips battled each other, earning small noises from each boy. Harry hesitantly sucked Louis' lower lip into his mouth, satisfyingly receiving a high pitched whimper. Suddenly, he became aware of the situation, and aware that is was real, and his mind suddenly went static and he had to twist his hands in the fabric blocking Louis' bare chest to keep himself from falling over.
Louis finally pulled away with a small gasp for air, glancing from his hands, which were tangled in Harry's hair, back to Harry's face. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opens it, and closed it again. Harry frowned a little and loosened his grip on Louis' shirt. He'd done it. He'd been so eager and feverish and Louis thought he was desperate. So, so desperate. And he was on the verge of turning away when Louis' beautiful and sinful mouth opened once again. "So, how high is the sexual tension in the room?" he breathed out, his voice an even mixture of filth and innocence. Harry's jaw dropped slightly, and a blush began creeping across his cheeks.
"U-Uh, well-"
He saw the roll of Louis' eyes before he felt the roll of Louis' hips. He was pressed back against the counter, cutting his stuttering short (thank god), and not long after the gentle brush of a pair of lips rose to the skin of his neck. He shivered, letting the older boy kiss around his skin, but his mind was focused on the pressure against his thigh. His breath began quickening as he realized that he did this. Harry Styles gave Louis Tomlinson a boner. A boner that bulged through two layers of jeans and burned right into Harry's thigh. He thought he was seeing stars then, but a sudden feeling of intense pleasure overcame his body as Louis' lips connected to a spot right above his collarbone. His hand instantly flew up to grip Louis' hair and he mumbled a small "there," his fingers tangling in the brown feathers.
With a small smirk, Louis began nibbling and sucking on the sweet spot. He rolled it in between his teeth slowly to the point where Harry was a quivering mess underneath him. He disconnected his lips with a loud pop and smoothed his tongue over the hickey before stepping back to admire his work. Harry's shaky fingers reached up and the tips of them ran along the bruise. A shiver rolled through his body. Louis had the mouth of a god.
Before Harry could process what was happening, Louis' hands were sliding his sweater off of his broad shoulders, teeth buried in the skin below his lip, and Harry knew what they both wanted.
When his sweater was discarded to the floor, Harry peeled his own shirt off. He felt Louis eye him, and he looked up to find the boy licking his lips. "Gorgeous," he murmured, causing the young boy's cheeks to catch fire. And then Louis' shirt was off, and there were two 50% naked teenagers in a kitchen, and even though the oven was off the heat was intense (okay, that one was bad).
Louis' dainty hands gripped Harry by the waist and lifted him onto the counter without a problem. "H-Have you ever done this?" Louis whispered as his mouth glided down Harry's torso and his hands prodded at Harry's jeans.
"Not with a guy."
Then his jeans were off, and his erection popped free of the horrible denim, but it was still confined by a thickish layer of boxer fabric. He blushed at how hard he was and how Louis was staring down at it with his mouth agape.
Harry pulled Lou in with his legs so his hard-on was flat against the short boy's toned tummy and kissed him. His tongue slipped past Louis' lips and he thought 'Hey, it's like kissing a girl,' but it strangely wasn't because there was stubble brushing against his chin and little grunts being released into his mouth and suddenly he was obsessed.
He wasn't aware of Louis peeling his own jeans off until he felt another clothed erection against his own and the friction made him let out a startled yelp. He pulled his mouth away from Louis' and looked down at his lap with a groan. "Fucking hell."
Louis smirked and pulled Harry forward until the boy's ass was hanging off of the edge of the counter. He reached up and tugged the useless boxers from Harry's thighs until they were on the floor along with the other useless clothes. Louis wrapped Harry's legs around his neck and looked down at the sight. Harry's dick was long and hard, pressing against the contours of his own abs. His hole was bright pink, twitching at the sudden exposure. "Look at you," Louis mewled out, his index finger tracing around Harry's hole and making the other boy jerk his hips up and whine. "I bet you're so tight. Unless you've been fucking yourself to the thought of me."
Harry let out a gasp as the tip of Louis' finger pressed into him. "I-I did it before you got here," he wailed, parting his ass cheeks desperately, and it was true. He had been rocking on his fingers at the edge of his bed to the sound of Louis' voice blaring from his laptop. The memory made him even harder, so hard that it hurt, and Louis let out a groan.
Suddenly, Harry felt something weird and wet and warm and he looked down to find Louis' head down below his dick. Harry clenched his walls and let out a moan. Nothing he had done to himself had felt like this. It was Louis' tongue, that beautiful tongue, lapping at Harry's hole. Harry had dared to think that boys couldn't get eaten out, but he was so very wrong.
He felt Louis' writhing tongue enter him and he let out a whimper at the feeling because it was so weird but so right. He reached down and desperately started jerking himself as Louis tongue-fucked him. He let out a moan, flicking his wrist quickly, and started to rock against Louis' mouth. He was letting out little strings of "LouisLouisLouis" and "fuckfuckfuck" as lips sucked at his hole. He felt himself coming closer and closer to his climax so he sped his hand up, desperately needing the release. That's when his hole suddenly became empty and Louis tongue trailed upwards and over his sac. He felt a slender finger press into his entrance not long after and he let out a cry of absolute pleasure. His own hand was peeled away from his dick and replaced my a warm mouth.
One glance down at Louis' pretty pink cheeks and plump lips stretched around his cock and he was gone. Back arching, he came hard into Louis' mouth with a scream, nails scratching at the counter below his quivering body. He rode out his orgasm and let out a weak whine as Louis' mouth pulled off, but a strange tingle surfaced inside of his belly as the finger in his ass kept pumping in and out. His cock jumped and he let out a whimper at the sensitivity. "Loooouis," he squealed, but the boy's finger still worked in and out of him. It was starting to hurt and his cock was starting to leak again but he didn't object. He just released little breathy noises and fucked himself against Louis' finger. That's when another was pressed into him and he nearly screamed as they stretched his hole farther than it was before.
"Tell me what you want." There was a ringing in his ears so he barely caught the words, but his moaning subsided as his trembling lips formed an answer.
"I-I want you.. I want you to fuck me. Fuck, please."
Louis' fingers pulled out of him, eliciting a sigh of relief and slight disappointment from Harry. He'd propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Louis leaned down to the clothes on the floor and dug his finger into the pocket of his useless jeans. Harry didn't know what the boy was doing until he stood back up, tearing at a little plastic packet with his teeth and twirling a tube in between his fingers. Harry raised an eyebrow. "A condom and lube. You came prepared?"
Louis shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Of course I came prepared. I wasn't gonna leave here without fucking you."
And that's when Harry felt an unnecessary surge of fondness for Louis. He was like, Aw, he was gonna fuck me even if I didn't beg. How endearing.
Louis pulled his boxers down in one swift movement and Harry just about choked. He was beautiful. Everything about him was so cute and small (well, besides his dick) and he was like a princess but at the same time he was so toned and tan and muscular and downright beautiful. "God," Harry breathed out, "perfect."
For the first time, Harry noticed Louis blush before he hid his face. "Shuddup, Styles," he mumbled out shyly, a grin on his face. He rolled the condom on and opened the lube, squirting a bit of it onto his fingers. He coated his dick in it, positioning himself in front of Harry's spread legs, and locked eyes with him. "Ready?"
Harry nodded, resting his head back against the counter. His fingers were twitching with anticipation as Louis gripped his side, rubbing his thumb into the skin before guiding his tip through Harry's hole. Harry tried to steady his respiration, but he couldn't. He just inhaled with jerky breaths and let them out in tiny whimpers as Louis slid farther in. When Louis' hips were pressed flat against his, he felt a dull ache in his abdomen, but he shoved it. Louis' eyes grazed his questioningly; he nodded slightly in response, and Louis' hips started to move.
Whimpered desperately, Harry tried to press his hips down. "Faster. Jeez." Louis let out a weak laugh but started snapping his hips back and forth. Harry moaned lightly, tilting his head back and gripping the edge of the counter. Little grunts were escaping both boys as Louis pounded harder into the mess beneath him. Louis lifted one of Harry's legs higher up and held it there, hitting it at a different angle. Each thrust hit the little bundle of nerves and Harry was screaming, already so close. Lou was coming close to his climax as well, his hips stuttering slightly and a weak moan leaving his mouth.
Harry reached up, dragging his nails down Louis' chest. "Do it," he rasped. The very sound of his voice, which was completely fucked out from screaming, was enough. Louis released inside of the condom with a groan, hips freezing against Harry's. Harry gasped slightly, grabbing Louis' back with his nails. "Louis, Lou, I'm so close, holy shit," he whimpered out. Louis reached down, rubbing into the spot directly above Harry's hole with his thumb. With a weak twitch and a whimper of Lou's name, Harry spurted little ribbons of white onto his own chest. With a smirk, Louis pulled out of him.
"Amazing."
Harry went into a brief post-orgasm state before leaning up and pecking Louis' lips softly. "The fans are gonna love this," he said with a grin. Louis just laughed, rubbing Harry's thigh gently.
"Let's wait," he insisted lightly, pulling Harry down from the counter.
And that's how Larry Stylinson came to be.