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Written for the prompt : We need more fics where like Harry is Louis friend and he has an issue with getting hard around him and getting really drippy and wet, so much that Louis eventually notices and is confused until Harry has I explain so Louis doesn't think he pissed himself. And just Harry with wet panties and wet chinos and precome sliding down his cock please omg
Louis doesn’t know what’s wrong.
Harry keeps fidgeting around on Louis’ bed, lying back against the pillows for a few minutes before moving to sit with his head by the end of it, propped up on Louis’ thigh. He crosses his legs and uncrosses them, puts his hands in his lap then removes them, fixes his hair and ruffles it up again. Louis suggested that he borrow a pair of his joggers for a bit because “maybe those jeans are too tight, Haz” but that was met with resistance, with wide eyes and a stammering “no- no I-I’m good.”
Louis doesn’t know what’s wrong and it’s making him uneasy.
There’s music drifting through the room lazily, taking it’s time as it reaches Louis’ ears, but Harry doesn’t seem to hear it at all. His favourite song comes on (the one with the “I live for you I long for you” chorus) but he doesn’t react, instead biting down on the end of his pencil and shuffling underneath the blanket Louis keeps messily slung over his headboard. There’s a pillow in Harry’s lap to prop up the kitty-printed notebook he’s scribbling in and his hair’s messy around his face and Louis can’t help but stare at him for a little bit. He’s just so… pretty, and young. Louis has this constant desire to grab his chubby cheeks and kiss him right on those puffy, bubblegum lips until they both forget how to breathe.
But now something’s wrong with Harry and maybe it isn’t the best time to dream about kissing his lips off his face.
“Do you want some water, or something?” Louis asks tentatively. He stretches his legs out so his toes teasingly tickle Harry’s knee. “Loosen up a bit, lad. It’s Friday! School’s out till Monday! We’re partying later, we can get drunk…” He trails off, smile plastered on his sun-tanned face, hoping it’s a contagious one that shows up on Harry’s face as well.
No such luck.
Harry swallows down the knot in his throat as he says “yeah, yeah. It’ll be ace.” He knows it sounds like a lie and it is, a bit. Harry is expecting tonight to be everything but ace because if he has to look at Louis while he’s looking like this (hair mussed up, boxer briefs clinging to his thighs, to other places, eyes with that mischievous glint to them), he’s fucking screwed. He can barely control himself now and he’s only been in Louis’ house for less than two hours.
Louis’ happy expression falls when Harry doesn’t mimic his excitement. Instead, his little curls seem less bouncy and his bubblegum lips seem more pouty and although it’s absolutely adorable, it’s not what Louis hoped to accomplish. In an effort to tease and charm, the older boy nudges at the pillow on Harry’s lap and knocks the kitten-printed notebook off the surface, sending it to bounce on the mattress. The jerking motion of the moving pillow against Harry’s crotch makes him catch his breath, forces him to take a few deep breaths. It’s getting to the point where it’s fucking painful but there’s really nothing he can do about it other than will his erection to go down, down to the point where it isn’t noticeable anymore.
“You good?” Louis asks. His smile is still there but it’s waning and his eyebrows are crinkled in concern. Harry nods but can’t help the hand that trails to grab at his throbbing member, squeezing just enough to sate it for a couple more minutes. “Seriously Harry, if you need anything just let me know -”
“Could I have those joggers you offered a bit ago?”
Louis blinks once, twice, three times before answering with a stumbled “y-yeah, I guess.” He rises to his feet and fixes his briefs where they rode up on his thighs. “Those jeans bothering you?”
“They’re just a little bit small,” Harry answers shakily.
“I hope these fit - they were a bit big on me when I bought ‘em.” Louis throws the pair of sweats at Harry’s face and they land on his head, prompting a little giggle from Harry’s tummy. “Here, I’ll take the blanket so you can get up and change.”
Harry worried his bottom lip as his best mate reached to take the blanket from his lap, telling himself that ‘it’s probably not that noticeable’ or ‘random boners happen all the time- he’ll understand’ but then the blanket’s off and “Oh.”
A significant wet spot stretches across the front of Harry’s jeans, going all the way to his bum and gathering just around where his hole would be. It looks like one large dribble, like someone dribbled water down his crotch in little dotted lines all the way to his ass. Harry feels the wet denim press up against his cock uncomfortably and the zipper is pressing into his shaft in a way that can’t be healthy. The pretty pink panties he broke out for today are probably ruined - their fragile fabric does absolutely nothing to contain the wetness and he probably soaked right through them, leaving stains forever.
With a pitiful whimper Harry lets the tears fall from his eyes in embarrassment and hides his face behind his hands. Louis, on the other hand, isn’t embarrassed at all. Rather, he’s quite enthralled and turned on in this unexpected (yet not unwelcome) turn of events.
“Harry,” he gasps, hand reaching out to touch the explicit bulge in Harry’s trousers. The younger boy bites down on his fingers to keep from crying out but can’t control how his hips buck up to meet the friction Louis’ palm provides. A small sigh of relief slips through the small gap between his lips while his hands drop from his face to grip Louis’ shoulders. “Harry, how long have you been like this?”
With a small, guilty moan Harry answers “since I got here.”
Louis rubs his thumb over what looks to be Harry’s head, over to the left by his hip, and the boy lets out another one of his pretty moans. His breathing gets continually harder and harder as Louis adds more and more pressure on his sensitive penis, whimpers and soft “nghhh”s echoing through the room.
“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Would’ve helped you out a long time ago.”
“Didn’t - ughhh - didn’t want you to think I’m weird.” His words are breathy and labored, sending little shocks to Louis’ dick. Harry falls forward and nuzzles his head into the crook of Louis’ neck, biting at the skin there lazily, spit gathering at the corners of his mouth. “Wanna… wanna see you, Lou.” Hands are pushing at Harry’s hips, thumbs rubbing into the bone there, pushing his body back just enough for their eyes to meet. Louis kisses his lips soft and slow, sliding his tongue against Harry’s languid and lazy, gripping the back of his neck. Jean-clad legs wrap around Louis’ hips as Harry climbs into his lap and starts grinding on his cock, feeling the hardness there and wanting more, more, more. Harry wants to see it, wants proof that Louis isn’t just pitying him, that he’s turned on by this too.
Copious amounts of precome slide down Harry’s penis from the head of it and it’s still soaking the front of his trousers. He whines. “Lou, want to see. I wanna see.”
“Yeah, babe. Let me get you there first, yeah? Stand up for me.” Louis taps Harry’s bum as he shakily stands, clumsily untangling his legs from around Louis’ torso. “Good, good. Can you take off your jeans, please?”
Thumbs hook under Harry’s waistband as he shimmies out from the skin-tight confines of his jeans obediently. Little by little, his little pink panties are revealed, positively wrecked and soaking and dripping from where all the precome had slid from his cock to his hole. He gasps when his large palm cups his erection. “Lou.”
“I know, I know, hold on tight, one more second.” Louis is scrambling around the room for lube and condoms because they were just there but they aren’t anymore, and of course they aren’t because it’s just Louis’ luck. It’s just his luck that his crush of like, five years finally is willing - wait.
“Harry?”
“Mmm.”
“Are you okay with this?”
“Just get in me.”
“Right, right.”
It’s just his luck that his crush of like, five years finally is willing to sleep with him and he isn’t prepared. Of course.
Louis rubs at his hard-on briefly with the heel of his hand as he turns and watches Harry doing the same, head thrown back and little gasps leaving his lips with each miniscule stroke. Lou reckons that Harry’s going so slow because if he goes faster he’ll cum and it’s too early for that. They’ve not even started yet.
“Okay, babe, you’re gonna have to do something for me,” Louis starts, reaching out to rub up and down the dip of Harry’s waist. The younger boy nods, hand still gripping his (small, cute) cock through his panties and teeth turning his bottom lip white with pressure. “I want you to take your panties off -” Harry groans, “and get off on that pillow while I get some lube and condoms, okay? Can you do that?”
Harry doesn’t respond verbally, instead gripping one of Louis’ wrists and guiding it down to his dick, moaning at the warmth his palm brings. He humps into Louis’ palm once again and whines when the warmth leaves. “No, baby, don’t cum yet. Want you to take the edge off and get my pillow messy, yeah? But make sure you’re hard again when I come back. Wanna fuck you.”
Those three words make the loudest moan yet bubble up from Harry’s throat and he only opens his eyes long enough to watch Louis lean in and kiss him before leading him to the bed, handing him one of his pillows. Harry runs his fingers over the clean, plush object and feels more precome bubble from his slit when he pictures the state of it after he’s come. “I’ll be back.” The door closes and Harry’s alone.
Panties come off first, the soaking garment sticky to his penis wetly until they fall down Harry’s soft legs and into a pile on the floor. His now exposed cock is so red, almost purple at the tip, and it’s just so wet that Harry might have thought he’d already come if he didn’t know better. His fist wraps around the member just slightly and his orgasm rushes to the surface, pushing against his lower belly. Harry releases himself and rubs the area where he feels that bubbling sensation, that heat. His palm presses down a bit on the spot and tingles are sent down to his cock. Fingertips press into the area and he moans loudly.
He could probably come just from that.
In fear of his impending orgasm, Harry reaches for Louis’ pillow and situates it so it’s flat on the bed, Harry planking over it. He drops his hips once and lets his dick glide over the soft surface. His heart jackrabbits in his chest and his arms shake because he’s so fucking hard and wet and he should probably be concerned because he’s never been this wet before. The precome continuously glides down his shaft and little beads of come get caught in the short, curly strands of hair by the base of his cock and he really should be concerned, probably.
But Christ this is hot.
He goes faster and faster, arching his back so he gets only the tip caught on the fabric, rubbing against his slit. He moans loud and reaches underneath the pillow to press it flush against him, moving again so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, pillow between his legs. Harry rubs the object over himself over and over until he feels that bubbling again, feels it in his tummy. His fingertips find that spot again and he presses down more, more, more and puts more, more, more pressure on the pillow and…. Comes.
It’s almost impressive, how much spunk he shoots.
The whole thing lasts a little less than a minute and he gets the entire pillow splattered with his semen. The grey pillowcase nearly goes black in some places where Harry keeps dropping his hips and thrusting into the fluff as his orgasm overtakes him, thrusting until he can’t anymore, until he’s too sensitive.
“Mmm” he hums as he comes down, breathing through the aftershocks. Louis’ radio is still on, still crooning these sappy love songs, and it’s only when Harry’s eyes get heavy that he remembers he isn’t quite done yet. He still needs to come again for Louis ; come when Louis is inside him.
Harry casts the pillow to the floor and rummages through Louis’ nightstand for that gag gift he said he was going to give to Shelly for her birthday next week. Empty condom wrappers and half-eaten granola bars cover up the package but Harry finds it easily enough. There’s scissors he found from somewhere in his hands and he’s cutting through the cardboard, making a mess on Louis’ carpet instead of in the bin where it should be, and reaching for those disinfectant wipes Louis keeps on his desk because he’s been sick and, you know, germs.
The disinfecting part is quick (just a little wipe down and then clean off with some water from the bottle beside Louis’ bed) and soon enough he’s tearing open the sample sized lube packages they stuff in the box, drizzling a little bit over his fingers. Louis’ bed squeaks as Harry leans back against the clean pillow and spreads his legs wide. His free hand lay resting on his lower tummy (which has quickly become its favourite spot) and the wet hand is travelling low to glide over his hole, gathering up some of the precome and using it to aid the process.
“Nghh” he breathes out, eyes falling shut and forehead crinkling in concentration as his two fingertips breach him, thrusting in and out slowly. He scissors them and presses down on his belly some more, wanting to feel Louis’ cock protruding through the skin there but only feeling strained ab muscle. “Fuck…. Fuck.” He builds up to three fingers and he’s desperate now. Moans slip off his spit-slick lips like water into a spring : easy and unrestrained and natural. Harry’s thrusting his fingers in faster and faster until he simply can’t take it anymore and glides the dildo into his hole, reveling in the stretch he feels deep inside. “Louis,” he groans, feeling a small amount of pressure on his belly. “Lou.”
The sound of the front door opening and closing makes Harry want to almost cry in happiness. He throws the dildo underneath the bed and opens the bedroom door, teary and hard, cock bobbing up near his stomach. “Louis.”
“Hi baby,” he smiles. The plastic bag in his hand drops to the floor and a box of condoms fall out, along with some lube. “You do what I ask?” Harry gestures to the messy pillow on the floor as he burrows into Louis’ arms, rutting a bit against his joggers. “You’re so good for me,” Louis praises.
He leads Harry to the bed and lets him get comfortable before slipping out of his pants and joggers, ripping open the condoms and rolling one over his length. Harry hears the quiet snick! of the lube bottle and soon enough there are fingertips on his already somewhat-stretched hole, delicious and wonderful. “Do we need to stretch you?” Harry shakes his head and peeks up at Louis with one squinted eye. He looks so pretty : fringe falling in his face, scruff hinting at his chin and jaw, tattoos pretty in the fading evening light. Harry almost comes as soon as he slips in. “Lou, Lou, Lou” he chants, gripping at his biceps and pushing his hips back onto Louis’ cock. “So good.”
“I’m glad, babe.” He groans, thrusting deep into Harry. The boy under him lets out a little squeak when the pressure on the hand on his belly increases. “So beautiful, Harry. You’re so beautiful.”
Precome is still continuously sliding down Harry’s small prick so Louis gathers some of it up and sticks his fingers in Harry’s mouth, letting the younger boy suck on them and flick his tongue over the sticky substance. He lets out a shaky breath as he thrusts again, embarrassingly close to coming just from the sight. What really does it, however, is Harry’s hand guiding Louis from his mouth to his belly, setting his palm on the rhythmic pressure there, the bulging skin. Louis groans and spills into the condom, breathing hard against Harry’s neck. Seconds later Harry shoots between their tummies and he’s making them sticky, sticky, sticky but Louis kind of loves it, loves how reckless they’re being.
When they both come to their senses it’s fully dark out and Louis can only see the outline of Harry’s head and curls. He guesses where his mouth is and they snog for what could’ve been hours or decades. And the more their lips fit together, the more Louis convinces himself he should fit with Harry until the sun burns out.