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“And you’re sure you didn’t just make this up,” Liam says slowly.
Louis shakes his head, lips pursed, and pushes his fringe aside. “No, you can Google it. It’s like, a hundred percent real.”
Liam hums, trailing his fingertips down Louis’ bare chest. He’s like a thousand different kinds of lovely, all golden-skinned from the Australian sunlight, smelling like suntan lotion and saltwater, hair all tousled and wavy. He looks like he belongs in a movie or a really good telly show where everyone is unbearably hot and perpetually tan.
“Okay,” Liam nods, after a minute, and Louis beams at him like his next five Christmases have just come all at the same time.
“Wonderful,” Louis chirps, and pulls Liam up, paws at his basketball shorts. “Take those off,” he commands, and gets to shimmying out of his own bermudas. “We’re gonna wanna kneel in front of each other,” he explains, with a tone a lot like Liam thinks he’d use with a toddler. “It’ll be good, I promise.”
Liam sort of wants to ask why Louis wants to try this now; they’ve been messing around for months, always better with a mate than by yourself or trying to pull on tour, and he’s never even hinted at being interested in more than handjobs or the occasional blowie. But he’s learned it’s usually better not to ask, with Louis, that if he wants to explain he will, and otherwise he’ll roll his eyes at you and huff and not answer. So he just follows Louis’ instructions, flopping back onto his back to squirm out of his shorts and then boxers, trying to watch as Louis gets his own kit off.
Once out of his clothes, Louis settles a pillow in the middle of the bed and centers his knees on it, then sits back on his heels. “So this is... sort of like. Like a kiss,” he tries to explain, but only ends up wrinkling his nose. “Or- bollocks, I don’t know. Just get on your knees like this?”
Liam bites at his lips to keep from smiling too wide, shuffles to Louis and settles in close on his knees, grabbing at his hip for balance. It’s definitely sort of weird, being this close and this naked and not touching, but Liam trusts Louis inherently, inexplicably. “So,” he echoes. “Like a kiss?”
“Shut up,” Louis rolls his eyes, but lifts his arse off his heels, half-hard cock almost reaching for Liam. It’s a funny visual. “Like this, Liam. Up. And then don’t freak when I touch you.”
Liam snorts a little, because he’s never freaked out with Louis, half tempted to remind him about that time Liam tried to move his hand back from Louis’ balls. But he’d kind of like to get off tonight. “Not gonna. You’re sure this is a real thing?”
“It is,” Louis says firmly, grabbing at Liam’s hip as if it’ll help make his point. He exhales, gives Liam a bit of a loaded look, a hint of a nervous smile, before composing himself. “Right, then,” he clears his throat, and strokes carefully down Liam’s prick from head to base, dragging back his foreskin. “The idea,” he mumbles, “is to, um.”
Liam leans forward to cut him off with a kiss, just a little peck on the lips, but enough to stop the words. He reaches down with both hands, taking Louis’ cock in one and covering Louis’ smart little fingers with his other, shuffling forward on his knees so that the heads of their dicks meet. He leans back to meet Louis’ eyes. “Yeah?”
“Exactly like that,” Louis nods quickly, eyelids fluttering closed. If he were in a more conscious mental state he might cut in with a snide remark or quick-witted comment on Liam’s forwardness, but he’s having a little trouble dealing with the world at large and it’s entirely Liam’s fault. “The- the idea is to slide y’foreskin over,” he says, the words stumbling out, “like, I think either yours or mine or both. We’ll see what works.”
He looks so lovely that it distracts Liam, that the actual touch and feel of the moment take a while to catch up. And he’s pretty sure they could get off like this, just rubbing the tips together and breathing against each other’s mouths, but Louis seems pretty caught up in this whole thing, and Liam doesn’t exactly object to trying more. Seeing what works. He slides his fingers through Louis’ on his own dick, moves like he’s jerking himself off, bringing his foreskin up. He’s not really sure what to expect, it doesn’t feel all that different to him as he shifts it forward over the head of Louis’ dick, leans further back to watch Louis for some sort of reaction.
Louis is thankful he was somewhat hard when they started because it feels like he’s about to lose it already, just like this. The feel of Liam’s foreskin around him is not entirely new but so different at the same time and he instantly craves more, dropping his forehead on Liam’s shoulder and tugging at his cock insistently. “Keep going, yeah, jus’- that’s perfect, Li.”
Liam doesn’t have time to wonder how he suddenly became the one in charge when Louis’ hand is as much around his prick as Liam’s own is, but he keeps on, anyway, carefully covering the head of Louis’ cock against his own. There’s less of a stretch than he imagined, but it’s not uncomfortable, and Louis seems to really enjoy it. He feels a slight tickle, sudden warmth and slick, and realizes belatedly that- that was totally Louis’ cock sputtering precome because of this. Liam doesn’t really care if Louis made it up, after all.
“Yeah,” he says, and his voice has gone awfully rough, it’s a little silly. He leans in again, pressing his mouth to Louis’ throat and searching out his pulse, sucking against the thrumming under his skin.
“Let’s- here,” Louis pulls his hand out from under Liam’s, wrapping his fist tight around his own prick instead, hitching his hips forward, and the head of his cock nudges Liam’s, and it’s so much nicer now that they’re a little wet. It takes a couple tries, but then his hand slides over the heads of both their pricks and holds them together with his own foreskin pulled up just over the edge of Liam’s.
It takes them a minute to adjust and figure out how to time strokes and how much pressure to apply so that it’s not too much too fast but they’re not sliding off, either. Louis can’t hold back a series of little moans every time his cockhead shifts against Liam’s, different from anything Liam’s heard from him before, more hushed yet a little more desperate.
And in practice it makes so much more sense to Liam; now that it’s not just Louis and his tentative look that makes you think there’s a chance he’s taking the piss but the actual localized warmth and wetness, the gentle slide and rub and the way Louis has gone so, so still when other times he’d be so desperate, hungry.
“Y’okay, Lou?” he has to ask, nipping at Louis’ neck, hips pushing forward a little.
Louis whimpers, ducking his head into Liam’s shoulder and breathing hotly against his skin, and Liam realizes he’s watching them, the way their hands keep bumping, the soft little movements of their pricks together. “Mmm,” he manages, finally, “Gonna come, I think, Li-”
Liam’s going to say something, something encouraging and sweet and yes, c’mon, want you to, but Louis beats him to it, and Liam chokes because he can feel it happening, the way that Louis’ cock thickens and the hot wet that’s way, way too much without warning. Their hands slide and Liam ends up holding Louis’, squeezing his fingers, and Louis’ prick slips away, and Liam struggles to lean forward, pull his own foreskin forward to rub over Louis’ cockhead as he keeps on coming between them.
Liam doesn’t expect it when he stumbles over the edge, too, has to really struggle to keep himself close to Louis instead of stroking himself through it carelessly. It’s much more intimate than he anticipated, less silly and more overwhelming, and the more he thinks about it- about coming all over Louis’ prick, about how their come is all over both of them- the harder it is to keep his eyes open and watch Louis and himself make a mess.
After, when Liam’s head isn’t as spinny and Louis has come back enough to be nibbling rosy marks all up Liam’s shoulder, it’s not quite as sexy. Their hands are wet and sticky and there’s come in the webbing of their fingers and Liam has to gently stroke Louis clean of it, and the pillow beneath them is striped and damp.
Louis looks smug despite his exhaustion as he curls up with his head on a clean pillow- he’s never been one to sprawl much after sex, instead making grabby hands at Liam until he joins him, forehead close to Louis’ and knees together. Louis’ tummy and hips are stained with come, like Liam’s, but Liam’s eyes don’t linger there for long, instead appreciating the sparse smattering of freckles across Louis’ cheeks and nose.
“Now,” Louis says, voice rough and too sweet, “while I do realize your faith in my-”
“Oh, c’mon, Lou,” Liam interrupts, but Louis hushes him, pulling his head back and giving Liam an annoyed look. It falls through, though, and he settles back in, lips curling up sweetly.
“We’ll be doing that again, yeah?”