i 0d2125e00f277ca8 (39 page)

Harry‟s mouth is open in shock, and Louis takes advantage and pushes

his tongue inside. Harry makes a noise high in his throat and kisses him

back, ever the quick study, and Louis doesn‟t waste any time, grinding

his hips hard against Harry‟s. They make it another minute, all tongues

and teeth and hips, and then he feels Harry already half-hard against

him and starts unfastening his trousers.

“Louis,” Harry says, turning his head away from the kiss. It turns out to

be a grave mistake on his part, because Louis uses the opportunity to

move his mouth to that place on the side of Harry‟s neck that he knows

drives him absolutely mad. “Louis,” he says again. He‟s trying so hard

to keep himself together, but his hands are tugging on Louis‟ hair in a

way that means he wants him everywhere but off. “I‟ve got to be out

there, like, now.”

“I know,” Louis says. He leans up and kisses Harry again, biting down

on his lip as he finishes undoing his trousers.

Harry breaks off, face flushed. “What are you doing?”

“I‟m living out every changing room fantasy I‟ve ever had,” Louis

says, and then he‟s on his knees, and he knows Harry can‟t say no, not

when he puts it like that.

266

He makes it last long enough that Harry‟s swearing at him and bucking

shamelessly into his mouth, too hot for it to stop but desperate to finish

before the game starts. Every time Louis can tell Harry‟s about to

come, he pulls off and kisses him, letting him taste himself as he

growls and whines for Louis to please, God, almost there, you fucking

bastard. When he finally does come, it slams out of him, leaving him

boneless and dazed and barely able to support himself against the

lockers.

Louis just wipes his mouth politely on his sleeve, drops a chaste kiss on

Harry‟s slack mouth, and strolls toward the door.

“Good luck!” he tosses over his shoulder cheerfully, and then he‟s

gone.

He takes the steps up the stands two at a time, feeling supremely

pleased with himself as he settles back down into his seat. When Harry

jogs out onto the field a few minutes later, he‟s only a little red around

the cheeks, hair damp on the back of his neck in a way that only Louis

could see for what it really is. The head coach doesn‟t tell him off for

being late, but he doesn‟t look happy about it either. Harry glances up

to the stands, and Louis waves pleasantly to him.

He‟s definitely, definitely going to pay for this one later. But it was

worth it.

His time of reckoning comes a week later. They‟ve both got to go to

some faculty retreat on a Saturday, mostly just a four-hour seminar on

grade scales and team building in the reception hall of some hotel. It‟s

boring as hell, but at least Harry and Zayn and Niall are there too, and

there‟s a free buffet at their lunch break, so he can‟t complain. Harry

wanders off while Louis is busy piling food onto his plate, and he‟s just

tucking into his fish filet when his phone goes off.

The screen announces it‟s a call from Harry, and Louis furrows his

brow, wondering what reason Harry could have possibly found to call

him since he last saw him five minutes ago.

267

“Hi,” Harry says when Louis answers. Louis can hear his voice echoing

faintly and knows he must be in the men‟s room, which, what the hell.

“Can I help you?” Louis says, rolling his eyes.

“Dunno, it depends,” Harry tells him. “What are you wearing?”

“Are you serious?” Louis says a bit too loud, and half the table full of

teachers turns to look at him. He switches gears, trying to play it off as

some kind of professional phone call. “I believe you already know the

answer to that question.”

“Too many clothes, that‟s what,” Harry says, voice slung low, and

Louis bites down on the pulse of heat that sends through him.

“Although I do appreciate the way your arse looks in those trousers.”

He purses his lips, keeping his face resolutely neutral. “Thank you.”

“You look so gorgeous today, Lou,” Harry continues. “Makes me

wanna put my mouth all over you.”

“I‟m, uh,” Louis stammers, and Zayn is definitely staring at him across

the table now like he knows something isn‟t on. “I‟m not sure that‟s

feasible at this moment in time.”

“Wish I could be sucking you off right now,” Harry says. “I love

having your cock in my mouth.”

Louis swallows. “The feeling is mutual, I‟m sure.”

“I love it when you pull my hair when I‟m going down on you,” Harry

goes on. He‟s speaking the way he always speaks, long and loose and

impossibly slow, and it‟s nearly unbearable when he‟s saying things

like that. “I love it when you come down my throat. I love it when you

268

fuck my mouth, and then the next day my lips are all red and my voice

is shot and everyone can tell what I‟ve been up to.”

Louis can feel his face burning at this point, and he has to close his

eyes for a moment to compose himself, silently praying to whatever

cruel god controls his life for his erection to go back down just as fast

as it came up. He clears his throat. “Is that so,” he chokes out.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

“I‟m sure, ah,” Louis says, crossing his legs uncomfortably, “I‟m sure I

could fit you in at some point.”

“Jesus,” Zayn groans, pushing his chair out and walking off to the

buffet. Louis wants to crawl under the table and die.

“I bet you‟re hard right now,” Harry is saying on the other end of the

line. “I bet you‟re sitting there in front of everyone thinking about

letting me fuck you, and you‟re so hard in your posh trousers that all

you want is for me to tell you to come in here so I can suck your cock.

That what you want me to do, Lou?”

Louis is seriously going to throw himself in front of a train. “Yes.”

“Hmm,” Harry says, “too bad.”

And then he hangs up.

Louis just stares at his phone for a full minute, unable to deal with what

just happened to him. Ambushed by phone sex. Phone sex ambush.

Public phone sex ambush, in front of everyone he works with. If he

lives through this, he is going to make Harry wish he hadn‟t.

269

Harry comes bouncing back up to the table a minute or two later,

smiling like an innocent little cherub as if nothing at all has happened.

“Hi!” he says, dropping down into the seat next to Louis and slapping

his upper thigh in a way that he must known is excruciating. “Did you

miss me?”

And, yeah, he is an absolute shit, and Louis wants to throw his drink at

him or brain him with a dessert plate, but mostly he just really, really

wants to have sex with him. It‟s almost annoying how nothing ever

tops how much he likes Harry, how much he wants to touch him and be

around him and make him laugh. And fuck him. That too.

Louis suffers through the rest of the day by spending as much time with

Zayn and Niall as possible, but it‟s all he can think about, a constant

recording of everything Harry said playing on loop in his head. At the

end of the day, it‟s finally just the two of them while Louis gives him a

ride back to his flat. Louis makes it about ten minutes out with Harry

sitting in the passenger seat singing along to the radio before he snaps

and pulls over into some isolated back alley.

He doesn‟t even give Harry a chance to ask what he‟s doing, just

unbuckles his seatbelt and leans across the console and yanks Harry

into a punishing kiss.

He breaks off quickly, finding his patience at its absolute end.

“Get. In. The back.”

Harry complies without hesitation, thankfully, and they have sex in the

backseat even though Harry‟s too tall for Louis‟ tiny car and Louis‟ too

worked up to last long. There‟s a late February chill in the air, and by

the time Harry comes, the windows are all so fogged from their body

heat that Louis can‟t even see through them. Harry laughs and draws a

smiley face on the glass, and Louis feels younger than he has in years.

270

It goes on like that for weeks, the two of them competing to see who

can come up with something better or dirtier or more ridiculous. Louis

retaliates for the phone sex by surprising Harry with a blowjob while

he‟s on the phone with Gemma, and the next day while they‟re at

school late afterhours putting the first coat of paint on some of the set,

Harry strips him down right there on the newspapers and leaves green

and yellow handprints on his back. It escalates, one thing after another,

desks and bathrooms and emails Louis has to delete as soon as he reads

because they‟re too filthy to risk anyone else seeing them. Louis knows

he‟s being reckless, but most of the time he‟s enjoying himself too

much to care, and when Harry laughs as he comes, it‟s hard to think

about what could go wrong.

It‟s the parts in between, though, that are really starting to get to him.

Zayn‟s been his best friend for years, but there‟s this other space that

Harry fills in that‟s just as close. With the exception of one time when

Louis finds out what having a grope in a supply closet is really like,

Louis‟ free period is still an hour of ribbing and laughing and Harry

forcefully importing Beyonce‟s entire discography into his iTunes.

Some days they don‟t have sex at all. Sometimes they only touch each

other in little brushes or slaps, only smile at each other over curry.

Some nights they just fall asleep on the sofa halfway through whatever

they‟re watching, Louis exhausted from work and rehearsals and Harry

catching up for how early he always has to get up for class.

One day Harry has to shoot some landscapes for a project, so they take

a day trip to a beach a few hours away, Harry riding along with his

hand out the window. Louis half expects him to turn it into some kind

of mad road trip sex extravaganza, but it turns out to be just the two of

them and huge skies and the Beatles on the radio. They leave their

shoes in the car and walk up and down the beach barefoot, just talking,

and then Harry gets out his camera and Louis gets to watch him at

work. Harry‟s always taking pictures, but usually they‟re just for

himself, just because he wants to. This is Harry really getting serious,

lining up his shots carefully, a little crease of concentration between his

eyebrows, and it‟s kind of fascinating. Louis sits on the rocks and

watches, happy to be there and to be with Harry. They swagger back

the the car as the sun sets with their arms around each other, and Louis

kisses him then, because he‟s only human and Harry looks sunned and

glorious and made to be kissed.

271

There are days like that, days when Louis is so happy that he feels like

his guard is starting to slip. He tries to hold that feeling down with both

hands, but it‟s not easy. More than once he contemplates skiving off for

the day and calling a supply teacher so he can surprise Harry at school,

thinking of how nice it might be to sit under the trees with Harry‟s head

in his lap. He catches himself in a moment of weakness looking at

toothbrush racks with space for two toothbrushes instead of one, and he

abandons his shopping in the middle of the aisle and takes himself

home immediately.

The game continues, though. At some point, sometime after the time in

the bathroom of Zayn‟s flat and the heavy petting behind the science

building, there are a few days of quiet, and Louis thinks maybe it‟s

finally over. He‟s almost grateful, because he‟s supposed to be getting

his cast off-book by the end of the week, and it‟s getting harder to

concentrate on things that aren‟t Harry.

He should have known better than to let his guard down, though. He‟s

in the middle of a rehearsal when a text from Harry comes in, and he

knows he should probably ignore it, but he can‟t.

got a surprise for you when you get home ;) xxx

It‟s not the first time Harry‟s let himself in and waited for Louis to get

out of rehearsal. Harry can‟t always be there to help, and besides, he

technically isn‟t needed for when they‟re just running through scenes

and songs, so it‟d probably start to look a bit off if he kept showing up

just to hang around Louis. Louis started keeping a spare key under the

mat a few weeks ago, since rehearsals have started running later as it

gets closer to opening night. He knows, logically, that it would be

easier to just give Harry a key, but he knows what that kind of gesture

means and he just. Can‟t do that.

Louis texts him back, keeping an eye on his Rizzo as she walks through

her choreography.

i‟ve got a few more hours here, sorry :( x

272