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Harry’s been restless since they got back to the hotel. He’s tense and sore and keeps rolling around. He’s afraid that he’s going to wake Louis up, but he’s so edgy that he can’t get himself to lay still. He stares up blankly at the ceiling, glancing at the clock that reads past 1 AM already, and he groans quietly. He scratches an itch on his arm and sighs. He wants to press into Louis’ back and hold him close but he knows that he’ll end up rolling over again, and he doesn’t want to disturb his boyfriend who is asleep so peacefully. He decides that he needs to go to the toilet, so he slips out of bed as quietly as he can and has a wee. He splashes water on his face and tugs hands through his hair, but his back has a sharp ache in it and he just wants to sleep.
When he’s back in the room, Louis is propped up, squinting with his glasses on against the bright light of the lamp that he had turned on. “Haz?” he murmurs. “Why are you up?
“I just needed to pee,” he lies, and he knows he’s shit at it and Louis can see right through it.
“Harry.”
He gives up straight away, too tired and too tense to even bother. “I can’t sleep, and I hurt all over,” he says, and Louis knows that he gets backaches, and he knows just how to fix it.
“Harry,” he whispers, and Harry crawls back into bed, snuggling into Louis’ warmth and letting him press kisses up and down the pale column of his neck. “Can I make it better for you, angel? Can I help you relax so you can sleep for tomorrow?” He knows that they have an early morning tomorrow, so he keeps pecking Harry’s neck, the underside of his jaw, rubbing a soft pattern on his stomach.
“Please,” Harry whimpers, and he cups Louis’ jaw for a soft kiss, some of the tension draining just at his touch. He craves the shivers that will dart up his spin at his hot breath, at the ghosting of his fingers on his back. “Can you?...” he trails off, and Louis knows what he wants.
“Of course,” he says. “Roll over for me, sweetheart.” Harry complies right away, kicking the covers off his feet and going on all fours on the hotel’s mattress. He’s already naked, smooth and white, skin like porcelain that Louis so badly wants to make bruised and colorful. He wants to mark him and bite him and make him bloom red and blue and purple. He trails a hand over Harry’s back, and he can see his cock already hard between his legs, so he runs his fingers quickly down his back with the scratch of his nails just to see him shiver.
A violent shudder runs through Harry, and he whimpers, “Please, Lou. I need you. Hurts.” And his talking about his back, and his brow is furrowed, and even though Louis can’t see, he feels the tension in his body. He presses his lips to his back and cups his arse with both of back, and he feels Harry go loose, a heavy breath leaving his frame like it was all that was making him uneasy.
Louis’ thumbs run down the crack of Harry’s bum and spreads him open, his hot breath cascading over Harry’s skin and making him shiver again. “Gonna be good, darling? So you can relax and sleep and look pretty for me tomorrow.”
“Good and pretty,” Harry repeats. “For you.” Louis nips at his bum, and Harry makes a soft noise in the back of his throat when Louis leans in and laps at his hole, and Harry keens high. Tension drains out of him, and he can’t help the, thank you thank you thank you that pours our of his mouth. Louis hums against him in response. It sends vibrations through his skin and his veins, and he’s already feeling lest worked up, a warm sensation spiking through his blood and making the goosebumps spread all over his white, soft skin. Louis’ thumbs press against him as his tongue circles his rim, and Harry’s making these little noises, because Louis does this like he’s made for it, and when he stabs his tongue, Harry falls apart, his tired and sore arms collapsing underneath him so he’s on his forearms.
And he knows Louis’ wearing his glasses so he can see everything and he can feel every buzz of his skin with his hands on him and he can sense every last move and noise Harry does because they’re joint like that. His hands are sweeping under Harry’s perineum and rolling his balls in his fingertips, and Harry whines, breathing heavily through his nose as the pain in his back lessens and the coiling in his stomach tightens.
Louis gently scrapes his teeth over his entrance and sucks, making a noise that makes Harry just fall apart, repeating his thank you’s over and over again.
“Look so good, Harry,” Louis murmurs, because it’s true. His body is pale and sweating, and his hair is sticking to his forehead and Louis thinks he looks just delicious. “Taste good, too, darling. You’re being so good for me.”
“Good, Lou, yeah.” And his fingers are fisted in the sheets as Louis licks at his hole, stabbing his tongue in a point over and over again. “Fuck, Lou. Feels really nice. Again, again.” Louis keeps it up for him, because he knows how sore he is and how much he thinks when he can’t sleep. His lips ghost over him and knead his bum and wander up the pale expanse of his back. He presses his knuckles in to relieve more of the pressure and the knots, and he can’t get enough of the little breathy moans Harry’s letting out, soft breaths and more thank you’s and high whimpers.
Louis kisses around his hole and flicks his tongue in and out, feeling the way Harry contracts and releases around him. He swirls his tongue around the rim and his thumbs press hard where he can feel a build up in his back.
“Lou, I–” Harry stammers, and he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to get it out. “Fuck.”
“Come on, angel, what were you going to say,” Louis murmurs against him, and his breath his so hot against Harry that he shivers again. He fists the sheets a little tighter as Louis kisses up the cleft of his ass and sucks a little mark into one of his cheeks. “Haz, darling.”
“Fuck can you just– more, please. Close, and I wanna be good for you.”
“You’re so, so good, Haz, look so good, taste so good, gonna be so good on that stage tomorrow for me. Look so nice up there. S’made for you, that stage.”
“Yeah, Lou,” Harry breathes back. “Thank you, thank you. Make it hurt less. You always make everything hurt less.” Louis kisses a trail down his spine and licks inside his hole, flicking and sucking. He rubs his fingers over his rim and presses his fingers into his hipbones, present and firm. His fingers wander back to Harry’s perineum as he licks at his hole, and Harry whines when he cups his balls. “Lou, I’m so close, can you please– I–”
“Shh, sweetie,” Louis says against his skin. “Yeah, yeah, Haz.” And he grasps his cock between his legs and keeps his lips against him, still licking into his hole and pumping his cock. He thumbs over the slit, and Harry’s coming all over his fist. Louis pulls back straight away with a kiss to the base of his spine, rubbing his hand over his back and letting him curl up on the bed, sated and tired. “You good?” he asks.
“So good,” Harry answers, and he’s sleepy and worn and Louis thinks he looks perfect. He presses a kiss to his forehead and to his lips, watching him fold his long and lanky body a little ball. Louis makes to stand after he wipes his hand on a tissue to go rub one off, but Harry’s pulling him down. “Lou,” he whispers. “Can you stay and hold me while I try and sleep?” He sounds so small and tired, and even though Louis knows he’s going to sleep either way, he forces himself to think of everything that turns him off, as he presses himself into Harry’s back, rubbing his tummy and kissing the nape of his sweaty neck. “Suck you in the off in the morning,” are his last words before he drifts off in Louis’ arms.