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He shouldn’t have frozen the water bottles.
Louis thought he was being smart by freezing them so they would stay cold longer while they were camping with the boys. Guess not.
“Lou, could you grab me a water bottle?” Harry asks Louis, who is grabbing a water for himself.
Louis nods and picks up two half-frozen bottles, walking back over to Harry and situating himself on Harry’s lap, his head leaning back on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Thanks, babe,” Harry says lowly into Louis’ ear, kissing his cheek.
“Mhm,” Louis replies, feeling blissed out and relaxed.
Harry, Louis, Niall, Zayn, and Liam decided a few weeks ago to go camping for the weekend. Take a few days off their jobs, just drink and swim in the lake. An overdue trip.
It’s their last night here, and now it’s dark, the fire made by Liam highlighting Louis’ cheekbones and casting shadows under his eyelashes. Harry can’t help but bend his head awkwardly to just watch. Louis is a piece of art, really.
“Time is it, Li?” Niall asks after taking another swig of his beer.
“About 11 pm,” Liam glances at the watch he has on his left wrist.
Then the boys start chatting about watches and their worth, but Louis is distracted.
Harry seemingly has consumed all the water in his bottle, and now there’s a giant ice block in there. But he doesn’t stop there, oh no. Harry is actually like rimming the bottle. He’s got his lips around the rim of the bottle and his tongue is swirling on the block of ice.
That fucker.
Louis watches his jaw move, his fucking sharp jawline that makes Louis want to melt. He watches Harry’s cheeks hallow just the slightest around the bottle, he watches Harry’s lips, red and swollen, absent-mindedly latch onto the bottle. Finally, he watches Harry’s tongue.
His tongue is moving in figure-eights on the ice, trying to get some water. Sometimes it flattens on the ice and slowly moves up, and Harry is still watching the rest of the boys, like nothing is happening with his sinful mouth.
But then, oh.
Harry smirks around the water bottle, and he knows Harry knows what he’s doing. Harry innocently slides his hand over the top of Louis’ thigh, rubbing over the smooth material of his leggings, and settles gripping on the inside and underneath of Louis’ thigh. Dangerously close to his bum and crotch.
Fucking dick. But, Louis can play this game. Harry underestimates how well he can play this game.
Louis shifts in Harry’s lap, so slightly that the boys are still oblivious and keeping chatting. He moves his bum slowly, so it drags teasingly over Harry’s crotch. Harry’s grip tightens on his thigh and he sets the water bottle in the cup holder, but that makes matters worse. Much worse.
Because now, Harry’s lips are coated with saliva, and they’re swollen from the harsh edges of the water bottle rim.
Louis wants to snog him and ride his face.
He clears his throat and tears his gaze away from Harry’s mouth, trying to will his dick to control itself. But now, Harry begins to rub his thumb back and forth on Louis’ thigh, putting just enough pressure on the head of Louis dick and putting just enough pressure on Louis’ rim.
Louis hates him, really.
It’s his turn to strike now. Louis shifts again and curls his legs to his chest, so he’s sitting sideways in Harry’s lap. His mouth and face are now perfectly snuggled into the crook of Harry’s neck, and to the innocent bystander, it looks like they’re cuddling.
But Louis has a plan.
And judging from Harry’s breath hitching, he knows that plan.
Louis innocently presses a kiss to the spot below Harry’s jaw, sweet and short. But then, he moves farther down, his and Harry’s hair thankfully long enough to conceal what he’s doing to the boys.
He presses an open-mouthed kiss to Harry’s jawline, nipping at it. He feels Harry’s arm slide around his waist, under the arm of the lawnchair, to rest at his bum. Harry moves his hand up slowly, slipping it underneath Louis’ leggings and briefs to palm at the fleshy skin there.
Louis’ breath falters at the contact, and it just so happens his mouth is right at Harry’s ear.
“Come up with an excuse for us to go to sleep so I can ride your face then you can tie my wrists up and fuck me,” Louis filthily purrs, leaving a kiss underneath Harry’s ear.
Harry visibly swallows, and he grips harder at Louis arse. Both of them are definitely hard now.
“Well, it appears Louis fell asleep so I think we’re gonna head off to bed, yeah? See you guys tomorrow morning,” Harry speaks up, making the three boys turn and look at them.
“Sure, yeah.”
“Alright.”
“Cool, see you tomorrow!”
The other three bid their goodnights as Harry stands up, holding Louis bridal style, who had gotten the note and is currently pretending to be asleep.
However, once they’re out of hearing and in their tent, Niall speaks up to Liam and Zayn.
“They’re so gonna fuck,” Niall laughs and takes a sip of his beer.
“Get your earplugs, lads,” Liam jokes.
Back at the tent, the game is definitely over and Harry and Louis are all over each other on their air mattress.
“Fuck, Lou,” Harry murmurs after setting Louis on the mattress and crawling over him, finally attaching their lips.
Louis hums an agreement and tangles his fingers in Harry’s curls, lightly tugging at them. Harry responds by swiping his tongue into Louis’ mouth, gaining control.
Harry detaches from Louis’ mouth just long enough to undress both of them, t-shirts and sweats strewn in the tent.
“You’re fucking beautiful, baby,” Harry whispers over Louis’ ear, dipping his head down to suck a lovebite onto Louis’ shoulder.
Louis quietly moans under the attention, breathing hard. Harry grabs Louis’ slim waist and flips them over, so Louis’ on top.
“Sit on my face, love,” and Louis just died and went to heaven.
Louis springs into action and turns around, his glorious figure illuminated by the moonlight. The light treads on his skin, leaving shadows in his back dimples, accentuating the dip of his spine, the curve of his hips.
Harry runs his hands down Louis waist and hips, settling on his bum.
“So gorgeous, darling,” Harry worships from behind him.
Harry grips Louis’ hips, pulling him back until he’s on his knees above Harry’s face. Harry uses his hands to spread Louis’ cheeks, putting his pink hole on display. He blows at it, watching it flutter under his touch.
“Harry, please,” Louis whines, resisting the need to grind back on Harry’s face.
“Shhh, okay, baby,” Harry presses a kiss on the inside of Louis’ thigh.
Harry goes to work, sticking out his tongue and circling Louis’ rim, making Louis curse. He licks a flat stripe from Louis’ balls to his rim.
It’s then the fun starts to happen.
“Wrists behind your back, please,” Harry instructs, and Louis does what he’s told, clasping his wrists together behind him.
Harry reaches up and holds his wrists together with one hand, the other on his bum, half supporting his weight, half spreading his arse.
“Ride.”
That’s all it takes.
Louis sits down, Harry’s tongue going in his arse, licking at his walls. Louis groans, beginning to move his hips. Harry keeps thrusting his tongue in and out, reaching as far as he can.
“More, I need more,” Louis whimpers, grinding back.
Harry places a finger in Louis’ spit-slicked hole, crooking it in time with his tongue. He hits the right spot, because Louis cries out and his movements get faster.
Louis pushes down on Harry’s finger, trying to get it deeper. Harry takes the message and adds a second finger beside his tongue.
“Fuck,” Louis moans, circling his hips as Harry scissors his fingers and licks loudly at his rim.
Harry hums against Louis’ hole, and the whole thing is just so hot Harry could come from this alone. He laps at the spit running down Louis’ rim, moving his mouth down to suck some of Louis’ balls into his mouth.
“Keep doing that, holy shit,” Louis groans, chest heaving and legs shaking from the exertion.
So Harry sucks harder, crooks his fingers to hit Louis’ prostate as he licks another stripe back to Louis’ rim.
“I’m gonna come, Harry,” Louis warns, and Harry can feel it in the way his hips are getting faster.
Harry adds a third finger without warning. And with crooking them to hit Louis’ spot and his tongue making loud noises on Louis’ balls, he’s gone.
Louis comes with this beautiful high moan, and Harry helps him through his high, taking control of his hips and holding his weight. He can feel spurts of Louis’ come on his abs and chest, and he feels Louis lean forward to lick it off.
Once the come is off Harry, Louis turns around and kisses Harry deeply, their tongues clashing together as Harry tastes Louis.
Louis is everywhere, in his mouth, on his hips, in his brain. Louis is always everywhere. Always on the back of his mind. And Harry loves that. He fucking loves it.
“You gonna fuck me now?” Louis whispers, mouthing at Harry’s prominent jawline.
“Of course, baby,” Harry’s rocky voice murmurs.
Louis lays down on the mattress next to Harry, waiting for Harry to make his next move.
Harry crawls over him, thighs bracketing Louis’ hips as he reaches up and quickly unties the scarf around his head. He loves tying up Louis’ wrists with his scarves, it shows Louis is his, just his. He claims him.
He gently takes Louis’ wrists and puts them above his head, looping the scarf in between and over his wrists. Harry then places a gentle kiss to the spot where his wrists conjoin, making Louis whimper.
“You look absolutely lovely like this, darling,” Harry mumbles, eyes scanning Louis’ body.
He watches the way Louis’ golden chest and stomach heave, gazes at the hollows of his hipbones, the gentle ridges of his soft abs. He looks deep into Louis’ eyes, who is watching him with the same intensity. The air is thick and hot, and it smells like sex. It’s almost too much for Harry.
Almost.
“Gonna fuck you so hard,” Harry grunts, quickly slicking himself up with the lube.
Louis is already ready and open so he throws Louis’ legs over his shoulders and looks at him, a silent question.
“Please,” Louis quietly breathes, and Harry releases.
He snaps his hips into Louis, making both of them moan. He stays there for a minute, balls deep, as he collects his bearings. Harry leans forward and attaches their mouths, tongues clashing, He begins to move, pushing his hips in and out, feeling the warmth and tightness of Louis.
“So fucking tight, Lou, shit,” Harry groans, hands grabbing Louis’ waist.
Louis whimpers in agreement in Harry’s mouth and his hands are sweating, he wants to touch so bad. But he gets so turned on when he’s restrained, when he lets Harry completely dominate him. Harry likes to say he talks like a top but takes it like a bottom, and he’s got to agree with him. Oh, well. We all know Harry is the opposite; talks like a bottom, does it like a top. They’re meant for each other, really.
“Faster,” Louis moans, feeling white-hot pleasure course through him.
Harry grunts and moves faster, the sounds of their lips and skin smacking together heard through the tent. Louis vaguely wonders if the boys can hear them. Too bad he doesn’t care.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” Harry punctuates each word with a harder thrust, and Louis has moved at least a foot up the mattress.
Louis’ back is arching off the mattress, and Harry knows that means he’s about to come. Harry reaches down and with one hand on Louis’ arse, groping him, he moves the other to wrap around Louis’ cock, quickly getting him off.
And that’s all it takes because Louis is coming for the second time that night all over both of their chests with a high pitched whine. Harry fucks him through it, chasing his own orgasm.
Louis keeps moaning with little “ah’s” and Harry is gone, shooting his load into Louis, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths. Harry feels his orgasm stop, and once all the adrenaline is gone, he lays on Louis, who grunts under his weight.
Harry reaches up and unties the scarf, throwing it somewhere in the tent. Louis rolls his sore wrists and brings them down.
“Love you,” Harry places gentle kisses to each wrist.
“Love you too, you big sap,” Louis giggles.
They lay there a minute before Louis remarks, “We’re gonna have to get this off or we’re gonna be stuck together, love.”
“But that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”