Archive of Our Own

“C’mon, babe, wanna see you fuck yourself down onto me.”

Louis lets out a whine, fingers digging into the hard chest of the boy lying down under him, skin slick with sweat and hair fanned out in a halo. He lifts his hips up until just the tip of the boy’s- Harry’s- cock is still inside before rocking back down onto it slowly, moaning full and sweet. Harry grips his curved hips hard, elegant long fingers pressing divots into his damp tan skin as he hitches his hips up to meet Louis’ downward thrusts.

“Gonna come for me, babe? Be a good little boy and show me how good you feel?” Harry husks out, slamming up into Louis’ quaking body and he cries out, pawing at Harry’s chest.

“Yeah-yes, Harry, ‘m coming-”

Louis wakes up with a startled gasp, cock twitching underneath his thin boxer shorts as it spurts hotly all over his lower abdomen, sticky thick ribbons of warm come splattering messily all over his sweating, trembling body.

He takes in a few swallows of air, blinking his sleep-fuzzy eyes a couple of times before looking around. He’s still in his large, sunny flat, the morning light streaming in through the wide windows of his bedroom and as he pants for a bit longer he realizes he’s clutching the sheets in his shaky fists. As he lets go of the sheets, he realizes he just had a wet dream about Harry Styles.

Harry Styles.

His enemy, the person who causes him work and pain on a week-to-week basis.

He lets out a scream into the cool air of the lonely flat as it washes over him; full realization.

After Louis screams and pulls his hair and cries for a good half hour, he rolls his limp body out of the white linen of his bed and trudges to the bedroom in a depressing matter. He opens the spray to semi-cold, and it looks ready to jet at his flushed skin as he peels off his sticky boxers and tosses it into the hamper.

He steps under the spray, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes as his hands rub at the drying come all over his thighs and tummy. He rubs most of it off with his fingers, taking a washcloth and scrubbing over it with soap after.

He washes his hair and cleans the rest of his body, watching as the water splashes over his soapy skin and wonders if he would look good with tattoos. William does, and maybe if he gets some Harry would feel more threatened by him.

He should look into this tattoo thing.

He gets out of the shower and takes his time to dry up; after all, it’s Saturday and work doesn’t start until one for him on Saturday. After he dresses up he goes into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea before reading Tweets and sees William sitting on the wide granite countertop of the island.

“Yo,” William says, jutting his chin at Louis. Louis smiles back at him and heads to the stove, seeing a kettle already on it. He’s going to turn around and thank his twin but is beaten to speaking by the boy.

“Why were you screaming?”

It’s amused, like he knows that it was something awful that Louis doesn't want to rehash but when Louis glares at the boy over his shoulder, his twin simply furrows his elegant pierced eyebrows and pouts, bottom lip sticking out so Louis can see the two metallic balls on each side.

Maybe he should look into some piercings too.

“Had a bad dream, s’all,” Louis replies nonchalantly, shrugging and trying to brush it off. But he should’ve known; he should’ve, that William wouldn’t let it go so easily.

“Whassit ‘bout?” he presses, and Louis rolls his eyes dramatically before turning around to face him.

“I met someone I hated in the dream,” he said, smiling brightly and trying his best to not open up the knives drawer right beside the stove. William presses his inked wrist to his mouth, biting at the bone there (it’s his habit and Louis’ glad he didn’t get that one because that’s just really weird), leveling at look at Louis before shrugging and hopping onto his feet.

“Sure, Lou. Anyways, Zayn and Pez are coming over after Uni classes today. Oh,” he stops, looking at Louis from where he is now standing in the doorway, wearing a ratty shirt printed with ‘Veni Vidi Vici’ and clean plaid pyjama bottoms that are most probably Louis’ and mumbles “yeah, and Eleanor might be coming too, um. If you don't mind all the people, of course.”

Louis smiles a bit fondly at that. “I don't mind. I think I’ll be at work most of the day, anyways.”

“Hmm.” William leans against the door frame, tapping his chin. “When will you sit me down and tell me why you work at the police station instead of using this time for extra Uni which then mean teaching job you always wanted?”

Louis smirks, pouring the tea as he says “soon, love.”

William nods, turning to walk out. As he does, he shouts over his shoulder “ya might wanna warn everyone at the station that one Harry Styles is having his frat party along with Liam Payne and Niall Horan! Love you!”

Louis splutters tea all over the counter.

He takes some time to clean up the mess he made in the kitchen before he rushes into his bedroom and pulls on black skinnies, a thin gray shirt, scuffed red Vans he finds in the back of the closet and then a jean jacket on top. He grabs his bag from the desk in the corner and runs back out to the front door, grabbing the toast William was buttering and caging it in between his sharp teeth, smiling apologetically around it. William just rolls his eyes and grabs the other slice from the toaster, eyeing Louis up and down as he slides the knife around it.

“What kind of clothes is that for a policeman?” he questions, and Louis gulps down a cup of water before looking back at him.

“I’m not a policeman,” he says coolly, “I’m a rookie cop.”

William whistles. “We seriously need to sit down with each other and have a talk about our lives later on.”

Louis nods, walking over to William to peck his cheek. William pouts at that and Louis rolls his eyes before leaning in slightly more, tilting his head and kissing his older brother on the buttery mouth.

“There ya go!” Willam cheers, and Louis smiles at him, backing out to the doors of the flat. “Bye, Lou.”

“Bye,” he calls back, closing the doors with his hip and starting down the hall to the elevator of the level their flat is on.

The first thing Louis does when he arrives at the station is park his car, grab his bag, run inside the precinct, dash to Captain Greg James’ office, barge in and yell “Harry Styles’ throwing a frat party today.”

Greg slams down the pen he was filling reports with and stands up. “Fuck.”

Louis nods empathetically, sitting down in the chair before his desk. “Fuck, I know.”

Greg is about to open his mouth again when someone comes dashing in.

“Captain, there’s a problem at the Stigma Alpha Frat House down at the college,” she says breathlessly, and Louis gapes at her.

“Already...?” Greg asks, sounding a bit dazed. He looks at Louis. “How did you know about this? When did you find out?”

“A couple of hours earlier, err, from my brother,” he says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Might’ve been a little bit late in telling you.”

Greg sighs. “S’not your fault. Anyways, we’ve gotta go.” He looks back at the door to the girl. “What’s happened?”

“Actually,” the girl says, “the party was apparently peaceful but then some older folks came onto the property and- you know frat boys and their properties.”

Greg looks bewildered. “‘Old folks,’ you say? How could they be so cruel?”

She shakes her head, and over her petite shoulder Louis can see the police precinct going crazy over the news, clearing spots out for the boys they will be hauling in, and Louis hopes Harry will be one of them. “They weren't old, old, just in their late twenties. Anyways, it’s gotten to be quite a ruckus on the college campus.”

Greg looks at Louis. “Thanks, Danielle. Louis, you’re coming in my car.”

Louis blinks. “I-I’m coming too?”

Greg nods, grabbing his heavy jacket from the hook in the corner of his office. “Yeah. You’re going to need experience, right? Maybe can even bring in that boy you hate so bad.”

Louis salivates at the prospect of bringing Harry in. He’ll be wearing handcuffs, how kinky-

He shakes his head to get rid of the thought before smiling at Greg. “Sure, I’m coming. Do I need to change...?”

Greg opens the closet near the corner of the room, pulls out a jacket slightly identical to the one he’s now wearing and tosses it to Louis. “Nah, just pull that on and you’ll be good.”

Louis slides it over his shoulders and follows Greg out, quickly observing his outfit. Black skinnies, a gray shirt and worn Vans. Maybe the jacket gives him the finishing touch; hot officer too cool to wear a proper uniform.

He groans then.

I’m such a fucking loser, runs on loop in his head as the laces of his Vans unfold and trip him into the door of Greg’s cop car.

“Oh my fucking God.”

It’s panic at the frat house, really.

There are Ivy League girls in mini shorts, Etnies and bikini tops dashing everywhere. One particularly gorgeous one smashes into Louis’ side before continuing her mad scramble. Food- mainly pizza- is crushed onto the grass and the famous red cup is in either nearly everyone’s hand or under their feet as they run. A group of older men are yelling barbarically and flipping lawn chairs and patio tables over. Frat boys are screaming out chants that Louis will have to ask William if they’re the College’s anthem and beating up everything in their sight. Niall horan and Liam Payne are decked out in cliche frat boy outfit- snapbacks, Supras for Niall, ankle Converse for Liam, crisp khaki shorts and tank tops- and they’re both holding water guns, spraying anyone that comes near them (which was unlucky for Greg, because as soon as he stepped near Liam to grab him he was sprayed with whatever substance was in the plastic gun) and, and-

Harry Styles stands between them all, thick, tanned arms crossed over his broad chest, cocky smirk on his pink lips as he examines the chaos he most likely initiated with a pleased sort of aura.

Louis musses he won’t be looking so pleased once his ass has been dumped into a jail cell.

Louis glares at the destroyed yard of the Alpha-Beta fraternity house. The giirls in bikini tops and jean shorts are stumbling out, rubbing their hands against their temples and groaning. Most boys are being rounded up, cuffed and placed into cop cars. Louis then sees Liam and Niall, both of them smirking right at him and then Harry is pushed forward by Greg to stand right next to them. It’s quite a sight, really; Niall and Liam both decked out in snapbacks and Supras with summer shorts and tans while Harry is wearing jeans and a torn-up shirt even though he’s the leader. Louis furrows his brows.

“Louis!” Greg calls, pushing Harry between Niall and Liam and over to the rookie, holding Harry’s bicep. “I need you to take Harry in that car.” He points off to a cop car near the gates of the parking lot of the white building, and Louis gasps.

“What- why do I have to take him?” He glares at Greg and points to Harry, face flushed. Greg smiles sheepishly; he knows Louis hates him.

“The last time I asked you to review Styles’ files, you took ‘em home, right?”

Louis squints before nodding. “Yeah. And?”

“Well.” Greg shifts from foot to foot. “You never brought ‘em back and we need them so you can take Harry, leave him in the car while you go to your flat- actually, no, don’t leave him in the car, that’s a terrible idea- grab the files and c’mon back to the precinct where we’ll decided Mr. Cocky’s fate.” He tugs on Harry’s arm again roughly and Harry smirks down at Louis from his nose. Louis is seething.

“Fine.”

Greg smiles at Louis thankfully before hauling Harry away and Louis takes the hand of a girl who got caught up in the fight, helping her over to an ambulance all while his minds whirs.

He knows if he takes Harry in correctly, he’ll be closer to being called-off rookie status and it’s really all he wants. The girl sits and smiles at him thankfully and he nods before heading over to the gates.

He rounds the car and gets into the drivers seat, closing his eyes and thinking about the prospect at hand: a whole ten minute drive with the crazy frat boy that’s nearly always in jail. And is kinda cute. To, like, other people. Not Louis.

He looks up and he can literally feel the bags under his eyes get heavier. He lets out another sigh before putting the key in the ignition and turning it. As soon as he puts the car in drive, Harry’s smirking lips drop open.

“You don’t listen to any music while driving?”

Louis huffs, gripping the wheel tight. He comes to the decision that this ride is going to be top-notch annoying along with Harry. “No, not really?”

“Huh?” Harry asks, punctuating it with a loud gasp. “How, Lou baby?”

Louis shivers in the not-good-shivering-way from the nickname. “I just like to drive in quiet,” he says, throwing shade too shady. He sees Harry smirk in the rearview mirror.

“C’mon, Lou. Don’t be so old. Turn up your jam,” Harry says, the word ‘old’ flitting around in Louis’ mind. He presses his foot down on the gas a bit heavier.

“Fine.” He opens the radio, skipping over the ‘cool’ and ‘hip’ stations only to land on the 90’s show on an oldies station. “You make me feel happy, Harold. Indulging my taste in music.”

The look on Harry’s face in the mirror when ABBA starts playing could keep Louis fueled for life.

He smirks to himself, turning it up.

Dancing queen

Feel the beat

From the tambourines

Oh yeah

“’You can dance! You can dance, oh! Having the time of our life, mmm,’” Louis sings, reveling in the way Harry slumps down in his seat.

Two can play at Harry’s fucking game.

“So, how’re you?” Harry asks nonchalantly; suddenly leaning back in his seat and looking damn comfortable for a person with their hands clasped to their ass. It annoys Louis but he lets himself think that Harry’s just pretending to be comfortable to piss Louis off. That’s his thing.

Nearly everything Harry Styles does pisses Louis off. Sometimes it turns Louis on but he desperately tells himself that his body is just acting weird. He then usually cries over a bento box over how fucked up he is.

“Mmm, I’m good.” He keeps his eyes on the road and his mouth in a firm line but he can feel Harry looking at him through the rearview mirror.

“That’s good,” he drawls, and Louis speeds the car when he sees the light turn yellow. He smiles victoriously as Harry yelps and slides from where he’s sitting to smushing against the door.

“Hey, twink, calm down there,” he calls to Louis, fixing himself back up and when Louis sees the next light turn red, he slams his foot on the brake. Hard.

The rookie shifts in his chair until he’s looking at Harry dead-on, eyes nearly flaming. His gaze skims over how Harry’s skin is now a dusty-tan colour than how it was cream white the last time he arrested him. The boy’s wearing black jeans so tight Louis can only marvel over how he’s still breathing and a pair of scuffed ankle converse. His white shirt is loosely draped across his wide torso, the sleeves hacked off and he’s got an- American flag?- as a sort of bandana, tied around his forehead with his snapback pulled on top, bill facing backwards. His arms are taut, biceps thick and curvy, splashed with black tattoos and his muscles flex each time he moves his arms around in the handcuffs. Louis’ mind blanks at the thought of how Harry could manhandle him- no, not him, a random girl, of course- with his newly built body.  Louis then think about how he’s got awful strange taste for a highly-ranked fratboy (which is hard to be because not many fratboys are really highly ranked).

Louis looks him over for a bit more, deciding that he hasn’t gotten that many more tattoos from the last time they were together and he’s pulled out of his reverie when Harry clears his throat. He looks up to the younger boys face, apples of his cheeks flaring brightly as Harry gives him a knowing smirk.

“Whadaya think?” Harry asks, leaning back and stretching one leg out till it hits the back of the shotgun seat. Louis stares at him for a second before remembering why he even looked at this twat.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Fucking. Call. Me. Twink.” He glares at Harry and Harry just looks back at him curiously as he goes on. “On the other hand, don’t call me fucking anything other than officer.”

“Not even officer Tomlinson?” Harry pouts as Louis turns back to face the front. The light switches to green then, and someone honks him. Harry barks out a laugh as Louis rolls the window down and flips the bird to them.

“Not even Tomlinson, son.” Louis begins to drive again, and Harry whistles.

“’Son?’ Really?” Harry laughs again. “I bet you’re not much fun in bed, calling people two years younger than you ‘son’ and not letting people call you ‘twink.’”

Louis scowls for what might be the umpteenth time that day. “I am perfectly good in bed, thank you very much. And why would any woman call me ‘twink’ in bed?”

Harry nearly brains himself on the window laughing so hard, and Louis’ whole body flushes hot.

“’Woman!’” he crows, and Louis reaches back to give him the bird too. “Officer, I’ve seen you shuffle awkwardly into work on one of my many trips to the station and I’m pretty sure you’re not letting that ass go to waste, hmm?”

Louis feels like driving into the coffee shop on the other side of the road to off both himself and Harry.

“Listen, punk,” he says, and Harry laughs so hard the car shakes, “you have no right to talk to me like this.” Harry gasps at that, and Louis’ eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What’ll you do to me if I continue, detective?” he nearly purrs, and Louis has a shotgun lying under the seat he’s sitting in that he is completely fine with pulling out and using on the middle of Harry’s face right now.

He doesn’t answer verbally, though, because he doesn’t really have an answer. He just continues to drive, body twitching and hot. Harry is quiet towards this reaction before speaking up again, much to Louis’ large dismay.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I threw that party?” he asks, and Louis simply shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says, not adding a ‘son’ onto it for fear that Harry will literally break the door he’s leaning on and roll right onto the street from laughter this time, “Danielle will do it when we get back to the station after I take you to my flat, unfortunately.”

Harry hums, nodding. “Mmm, I like her, y’know? Nice, tight, firm body, good voice, she’d be fun.”

Louis bites his lip. “What even are you?”

He can feel Harry sit up in the back, suddenly interested. “There are many different alternatives to that question. What am I in what way? What do I do for a living? What did I do to become so unbelievably sexy? Wh-“

“No,” Louis says exasperatedly, “I mean, like, what do you, y’know, prefer?”

Harry blinks dumbly, before letting his signature cheeky dimple-popping smile appear on his face again. “And why are you interested, officer?”

“Well-“ Louis nearly splutters out, suddenly aware that his composure is utterly lost, “I’d just like to know if that when you asked me out all those times, if you were being serious, right?”

Because it’s a thing; nearly whenever Louis comes and carries Harry away to their castle aka the police station in his carriage aka cop car, Harry always asks Louis ‘go out with me.’ So yeah, he wants to know if it’s real, like Harry is interested in boys or Harry just likes to fuck with every single aspect of his pathetic life.

“Ah! Right.” Harry nods at this, eyes closing and brows furrowing. “You reminded me. Go out with me, officer.”

Louis snorts. “You wish. I shouldn’t even be on your cases; I’m a fucking rookie cop, yet they always drag me out here because ‘I’m the only one that can tame you.’” He mimics the sentence in what he assumes is Greg’s voice. “All that time wasted should count as one fucking long date, Styles.”

He lets out a surprised gasp as Harry pushes up out of his seat and stretches to Louis’ ear, pressing his thick lips near the base of his neck and whispering, “but, officer, what Captain James says is true. You are the only one that can tame me. I’m a wild beast, but when you’re near I’m suddenly so calm. You’re my muse, Louis.”

Louis starts screaming and Harry laughs so hard he chokes on the sobs he lets out. Louis just keeps screaming.

The first thing Louis hears from Harry after he’s made him sit in the living room when they’d finally arrived to his flat is “Louis, there’s another Louis over here.”

Louis comes out from his bedroom, holding another pair of handcuffs and his baton. He looks at Harry who is looking up at William, who is standing at the door with a look of shock and horror and betrayal that speaks volumes to Louis of ‘you brought my fuckin’ enemy to our flat.’

“Er, yes! There is another Louis,” Louis says faux-cheerfully, moving to stand behind Harry. “Harry, meet my twin brother William. William, meet Harry who I am soon going to be tossing into jail to rot.”

William seems to relax plenty at the mention of Louis leaving Harry to wither away in a jail cell which quite scares Louis. He shakes his head, though, before looking back up at his brother. “Your classes aren’t over yet, Will? Why’re you home?”

“Ah!” William looks up, tongue poking out to the metal ball pierced under his bottom lip. He looks down the hall. “I needed to get my eco class books; I forgot ‘em.”

Louis nods. “Yes. Okay, please get them and be on your way, love.”

William disappears down the hall, his muddy black Vans leaving awful dirt trails on the white flooring. When he’s inside his room and out of earshot, Harry turns his head to look at Louis, who is still standing behind him.

“Your brother’s fucking aces.” He furrows his brows. “Is that how you would look with tattoos? Damn hot.”

Louis slaps Harry so hard he slides off the couch. “Do not talk about my brother like that, fool.”

“Oh-“ Harry says, rolling around on the floor since his hands are still attached to his butt and he can’t get up, “I didn’t know you were the protective type of brother.”

“Well, yes! I am.” He folds his arms, glaring at Harry. “We’re going to wait until he leaves and then I’m going to get your files and then we’re going to go to the station and I will lock your ass up for so long you’ll never be able to touch him.”

Harry whistles. He’s still rolling around on the floor. “Damn, you really are those types of protective brothers.”

William appears then, one inked arm sticking out of his room with a thick textbook before the rest of his body comes out. He’s pulled on a snapback and is holding Louis’ skateboard; now. “Lou, could I borrow this?” He holds the board out and Louis nods.

“Yeah, just be careful.” He smiles as William walks over and kisses his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” Will huffs, pulling back. “I will be.”

Louis waves as he walks out, closing the door behind himself. He then turns to Harry, who’s eyes are wide.

“I-“ he breathes, “I’m going to wank to that mental picture a lot; your twin kissing you. That’s fucking hot; we should have a threesome.”

Louis pushes Harry onto his back and then stands on his hard chest until he’s wheezing and promising he was joking.

“Sit, stay,” Louis orders, mouth in a deep-set frown. He heaves Harry up into a sitting position with a lot of groaning and little help from Harry’s end; pushes his back to the wall of the living room. “I’m going to get your files now and then we’re fucking off.”

Louis turns to head down the hall when Harry speaks up.

“Uncuff me?”

Louis spins around, eyes wild. “Ha! As if I would ever un-“

He falters in his grand speech, then.

Harry’s hands are free.

Harry sighs, dangling the cuffs in one hand and pointing to a little tab sticking out of them with his other. “Louis, when you cuff someone, you don’t leave the key inside the lock.”

Louis squints his eyes, seeing the small key tucked into the lock. He gasps and then freezes. Harry looks at him with an expression that seems a bit scared and a bit curious.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Louis jolts.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Harry seems bewildered at the words but then laughs. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to turn around.”

Louis does so, face pale and arms in the air. Harry comes up behind him and grips his biceps, pulling them down and placing his hands above the small of his back. Louis feels shame sweep over himself as Harry snaps the thin metal clasps around his wrists and idly wonders if Harry actually ever did care that he was handcuffed like a criminal for foolish things and just pretended to not give a shit.

He’s in the middle of having a sob party for Harry inside his mind when he feels something. That something turns out to be Harry pressing the outline of his hard- erection right in between Louis’ jean-clad arse cheeks.

“Oh,” Louis breathes, and honestly Louis might have been academically smart but he’s definitely not people smart or sex smart and this all comes to head when he’s awful horny. “Oh, you can hurt- hurt me like that."

Harry stills behind Louis; it’s so obvious in such an awful way but then his pretty pink lips are pressing to the arch of Louis’ neck and mouthing there hotly and he mumbles in his rough voice “well, that was easier than I thought.”

Louis looks up at the ceiling. That was easier than he ever thought it would take for Harry to get him in bed, but. He was never exactly the guy who could get laid whenever he wanted like William so he’ll take what he can get.

If what he can get is one Harry Styles, he is very willing to take it.

Harry grips him by his adjoined hands and tugs at them once, causing Louis to stumble forward before tromping down the hall, Harry still practically attached to his ass. The dream he had earlier replays through his mind as Harry pushes the door open to his bedroom, and the fact that he’s so very hard is suddenly pushed into light.

“You’re hard,” Harry remarks then and wow Harry’s a smart one. Louis only nods, though, letting him push him onto his bed.

Harry gets on after, sitting back on his haunches before reaching out and pushing Louis’ face down into the pillow. Louis’ upper body is now bent down with his arse sticking up in the air and since his own hands are now tied to his butt he has absolutely no leverage whatsoever to move around how he pleases; can only let Harry do whatever he wants. This seems to greatly please Harry.

“Like, I know I’ve told you you have an amazing ass, but.” Louis gasps as fingers are tucked into the waistband of his jeans and then being pulled down, thighs clenching up at the cool air hitting their warm skin. He lets Harry lift up his lower legs one at a time to pull the pants off all the way and startles when a flat palm comes to lay on his right buttocks. “But honestly you have such a nice ass-” He squeezes the flesh in between his fingers and Louis tries not to moan as he massages it then, “-and not even because it’s big; it’s just so round and so soft and-“

Louis yelps as his briefs are pulled off quicker than they’ve ever been and his arse is sticking up in the air freely as Harry finishes with “-so edible.”

Louis’ not a hundred percent sure what that means, he just hopes it doesn’t lead to Harry barbequing his behind and then feasting on it. He hopes it’s not that but as Harry places his palms on the round of each cheek and spreads them apart, brushing his thumb over his hole, he guesses it isn’t.

“Fuck,” he swears softly, the pillow making it come out intangible. Harry presses the pad of his thumb to the warm pink skin, catching it on his rim every time he slowly brushes over it and Louis’ hands might be bound but his feet aren’t so he uses that fact to his advantage and thwacks Harry’s thigh. Harry curses before breaching inside him with his finger.

Louis’ hand clenches and he pushes back onto it, groaning when Harry pulls it out. He feels Harry move from behind him and he panics; arches his back low, pushing his arse high in the air and spreading his thighs to show he’s giving himself up and Harry should do something.

Harry does do something; moves back onto the bed and spreads Louis’ cheeks apart again, presses his thumb back. It feels cold this time, though; wet and slick as he strokes him lightly this time over. Louis turns his face away from the pillow, rubbing the saliva that leaked out his mouth around onto his cheek and glaring at Harry over his shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Um.” Harry furrows his brows. Louis sees he’s taken his snapback and top off, leaving his only his jeans and boxers on and Louis has noticed Harry’s V-line the few times he’s tried to wrestle Harry away from a guy he was fighting with but has never explicitly seen it and wow.

It’s sharp; so sharp and long and has a light path of hair where it leads down tauntingly to the waistband of his boxers and Louis wants to sprinkle it with pepper and splash it with lime and then lick it up.

He thinks that might be weird, but he also thinks should be excused. It is a fantastic V-line.

“I’m opening you up,” Harry cements a moment later. “And I’m going slow. Because you’re a virgin, right?”

Louis wants to say aww I thought you were gonna go in dry I didn’t know you cared but Harry has just called him a virgin so instead of thanking him he slaps him with his foot again except not on the thigh this time; right on the fat, cherubic cheek.

“I’m not that much of a loser!” he shrieks, and Harry rubs his cheek with wide, staring eyes as he continues. “Hurry up and fuck me, asshole!”

He cries out as Harry thrusts two wet fingers roughly, breaking through the resistance harshly before pumping them in and out in a sloppy, off-rhythm way. Louis groans as Harry pulls them out before shoving back in and keeping them there, wriggling them around and hooking around, scissoring and stretching him out in a way that makes him ache.

He pushes back, moaning Harry’s name as Harry brings his other hand round, sliding it down the curve of Louis’ waist before stretching his thumb out and prying his left cheek away. He wriggles, rocking back onto the digits and Harry bends over him, his fingers till fucking in hard and ruthless as he kisses the space between the wings of Louis’ shoulder blades.

“You like this?” Harry mumbles there, poking his tongue out to flick at the kiss-dampened skin before dragging it hot and flat to the curve of Louis’ neck. Louis shivers and tries to answer but he can’t vocally so he just clenches around Harry’s fingers. It seems to be answer enough because he can feel the younger boy smile against his skin. He pulls them out and Louis bites the pillow as Harry pushes them back in and it’s one, two, three stretching him out hard and he’s fucking back onto them himself now, his cock hard and curved up to his belly as Harry seemingly plays with him, catching them on his rim and pressing them to the fluttering skin before drawing them out and leaning back.

Louis pants, spreading his thighs as far as they can go without breaking and he feels shamefully on display like that; balls tight and heavy and cock thick and leaking against his navel and he rolls his head to look between his legs, biting his lip as he sees Harry unbuttoning his jeans.

“Condom?” Louis rasps out and Harry nods, taking one hand away from his waist and reaching behind himself to pull his wallet out. Louis wants to hit his face again when he sees three foils and a packet of lube fall out along with some dollar bills but he’s kind of scared he won’t get fucked if he does so he decides to wait until after.

Harry doesn’t spend long after that; pulls his jeans and boxers down to around his thighs and gripping his cock (which Louis notes is long and pink thick and quite hard and he might be thicker but whatever; it doesn’t stop the salivation) by the base, rolling the condom down and pinching the top before tearing the lube open and squeezing out quite a bit, stroking himself with his doused fist and then reaching out to grip Louis by the waist; keep the rowdy cop still as he pushes his head in.

“Fuck-“ comes out in unison from both, and Louis’ thighs are beginning to ache from being the only part of himself held up and he pushes back idly, whining for Harry and Harry’s long-ass fingers push divots into the soft give of his hip as he pushes in hard.

“Harry, Harry, fuck-“ Louis slurs, ass aching as Harry bottoms out and stills there. He feels like he’s being split open and he gnaws his fangs into the pillow until it splits open and he feels happy. Harry then pulls out slowly before snapping back in and he is not happy anymore. He’s awful horny.

“Move-“ he bites out and that’s all that it takes for Harry to hold his hips with a bruising grip and start fucking him, pulling out before pushing back in and it starts slow until he gains confidence in Louis’ muffled noises and goes faster.

Louis’ hands are clasped together until he stretches his fingers out and wiggles them around blindly. Harry seems to get it or- at least maybe he realized that Louis can’t breathe anymore and he reaches one stupidly large hand out and grips Louis by the feathery spikes of hair on the back of his head, tugging them until Louis’ head snaps up and he uses that point to haul Louis’ whole body up; holds his waist and murmurs soothing nonsense as Louis cries out from having his hair pulled like that.

Louis gasps as Harry nearly slips out all the way before he’s sinking back down onto his cock; sitting in Harry’s lap now as Harry grips him round the waist and begins to fuck up into him. He shivers and his thighs are shaking now on each side of Harry at each thrust; hard and slow and hot and he can only let out small whines because he feels so physically full; like it’s crushing his throat and then Harry’s lip are pressed beside his ear the next time he fucks up inside.

“Think you can come like this? From just my cock inside you; like a girl.” Harry punctuates it with a particularly hard thrust before slowing down and Louis doesn’t answer as his head rolls back to lay on Harry’s shoulder because he honestly think he can and it doesn’t really take that long for him to be whimpering and coming all over his quaking stomach.

He slumps against Harry, soft and useless and Harry begins to use him; holds him up as his hips snap up into him and Louis clenches around him, gasping and hands fisting and toes curling and then Harry pulls him down firmly as he comes into the condom, shivering behind Louis.

After he came, Harry had helped Louis lie down on his side and then had lain down beside him. Louis is slightly incredulous of this because Harry’s just snuggling into his bed naked while he’s still handcuffed but.

Stranger things, Louis has experienced.

“You’re a good fuck,” Harry yawns, and Louis smiles at him.

“Thanks.”

He arches his neck down and kisses Harry’s jaw, eyelashes fluttering against Harry’s heated skin. He feels the younger boy jolt and smiles before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a good fuck too.” He lightly presses his teeth to Harry’s bottom lip, and Harry smiles then.

“Thanks.” He stretches his arms out, closing his eyes and tapping his fingers against the headboard of the bed. He feels blissed-out and sated and warm and Louis’ laying beside him and his hands are cuffed.

His eyes snap open to meet Louis’ own twinkling ones; excited smirk. Louis watches as Harry cranes his neck up to see his hands cuffed to the bed and Louis’ hands free, one laying on his chest and the other pulling the key out of the cuff’s lock.

“Harry,” Louis says, tossing the key over his shoulder and onto the floor, “when you cuff someone, you don’t leave the key inside the lock, darling.”

He can see Harry shift uncomfortably. “Fuck you Louis, you’re just turning me on.”

“Good,” Louis says, crawling out of the spot beside Harry and bending over the edge of the bed, giving Harry a faceful of ass. Harry moans and Louis grabs what he needs from the side table before sitting back up and flipping the blankets off Harry. He can see his cock thickening and smirks gleefully.

Louis throws a leg over Harry’s thighs and straddles him, putting some lube on his left palm and reaching down to grip Harry, slowly slowly stroke him. He drops the condom beside Harry’s hip and picks up his phone, which seems to excite Harry.

“You gonna film us?” he asks, and Louis sighs, tapping the delicate screen quickly.

“You wish.” He jerks Harry harder then and opens up a note he's saved a while ago. “Harry Edward Styles, you are under arrest for defiling state laws and regulations. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the state. Of course, all of this comes into action after I’ve had my fun with you.”

When he looks up from his phone screen, Harry’s jaw is nearly unhinged. He strokes him once more before dropping his cell and picking up the condom to roll it on him. He thumbs the top and then slicks him up before lifting his hips and pressing the head to his loosened, wet hole and sinking down onto him. Harry moans then; full and sweet and it makes Louis’ cock twitch. He slowly begins to rock his hips, taking his time during this round.

Harry looks up at him then, dark hair plastered to his flushed skin, lips dark red and bitten and eyes bright and he doesn’t look angry, just looks calm and kind of happy and then he says “y’know, since we’ve fucked now, I really do think we could go on that date once I get out of jail.”

If the way Louis’ heart skips a beat at that is anyway to indicate that he wanted to hear that, then he guesses it’s true. He bites his lip, looking down at Harry and he thinks that even though he most definitely won’t be falling in love with him for a long while, he can learn to not hate him so bad and in the moment, it all seems quite right.

(That is until Zayn and Perrie come stumbling through the door with their mouths attached to each other’s, William and Eleanor blushing behind them and Louis realizes that Harry had pushed him into William’s room instead of his own.)