A/NHarry/Louis, NC-17, crossdressing!Louis, birthday sex. Just so you know. So... Happy birthday, Suzie! I love you!
Harry sticks his key in the door. It’s late, he’s tired and satisfied, and he’s ready to go to sleep. In the club, Niall and Liam (Liam!) begged him to stay and party. Zayn simply told them to leave Harry alone. In his bradford accent, the lad shooed Harry out of the club amidst Niall’s protests that it was Harry’s birthday for God’s sake, he should have at least one more pint. Harry bowed out as gracefully as he could without just saying that he actually wasn’t interested.
Harry finally gets the stupid door open and swings it open. He tosses his keys onto the table in his front hallway and walks through it, stopping to flick on a light halfway through. He reaches the very end, and abruptly stops -- he hears a thump and a muffled curse.
Harry continues walking and comes out into, well, an interesting scenario
“Harry! Shit, you’re home early,” Louis says from a position on the floor. “Niall was supposed to keep you for another 10.”
Harry can feel his jaw nearly at his chest
Louis’ in a skirt. And not just a skirt -- it’s a full blown girls’ outfit, complete with stilettos, tight shirt, and bra (Harry can see the straps through the shirt)
Louis flips his hair a bit and stands up shakily. “Well,” he says with a grin, “What d’you think?” He turns in a circle, making certain to show off his arse. The fabric of the skirt is tight against it, and Harry feels a wave of heat go through his stomach.
Louis twirls once more for good measure, then turns to face Harry, cocking one hip out and placing hands on either one. He’s got a smirk on his smug little face, and Harry can tell the bastard know what this is doing to him.
“So,” says Louis impatiently, “Do I make a good girl, or what? Zayn said I could pull it off because I look like one anyway, so I slapped him, and then he said I just have really good bone structure, and --”
But he doesn’t say any more, as his lips become rather occupied by Harry’s
“You’re definitely the fittest girl I’ve ever seen,” breathes Harry raggedly into Louis’ ear. Louis shivers, and Harry makes to tug him toward a bedroom, but Louis hesitates.
The Doncaster boy shuffles forward to Harry’s iPod on the table and scrolls through his playlists until he comes to the one labeled ‘Dance pop’. He places it on Harry’s iHome and turns the volume up, loud enough so as to recreate the feeling of being in the club. Turn Around (5, 4, 3, 2, 1) is the first song to come on, and Harry laughs a bit internally, as that’s exactly what he’d like to tell Louis. The lad walks over to Harry, stuttering a bit in his heels, and Harry catches his forearms to keep him from falling. Louis looks up (Harry notices gold shadow on his eyelids and mascara on his lashes) and catches his breath; he bites his lip and turns, grinding back against Harry. Harry groans; Louis is going to drive him mad. Louis grabs his hands and places them on his hips, pulling them so close there isn’t a centimeter of space between Harry’s crotch and Louis’ arse. Louis is swinging his hips vigorously and Harry throws his head back, closing his eyes. (Why did anyone ever invent jeans, again?)
When the song ends, the next one is Thinkin’ Bout You, and Louis slows to a sensuous roll of hips against hips. Harry turns Louis around roughly, and pulls him close again; he slides his hands down to Louis’ arse and squeezes. Louis smiles and reaches up to gently bite Harry’s ear; Harry shivers and takes a deep breath. Louis even smells like a girl: Harry doesn’t remember him buying any perfume in the past few days, so he must have been planning this for a while
The song comes to an end, and Louis steps back, and pushes Harry roughly down onto the couch. Louis spins so his back is to Harry, and bends down, undoing his shoes. Harry’s getting more and more uncomfortable by the second; his jeans are much too tight in the crotch, in his opinion.
Louis stands up and twirls again, facing Harry. He has a wild look on his face, a half-smirk that read you can’t tame me. Harry’s not sure what Louis’ doing, but then he slowly lifts the hem of his shirt, and oh. Oh. He’s stripping.
Louis slowly lifts the shirt off his head, and throws it down somewhere on Harry’s floor. Next, he spins and bends down in one, slowly tugging his skirt down, giving Harry a perfect view of his arse, sending a not so perfect wave of heat straight to Harry’s now raging erection. Harry gulps.
Louis’ wearing a thong. A pink, lacy thong that looks too small to even fit around even Louis’ slim hips, but it does. Louis stands up once more. Breathing hard, he looks at Harry, and says, “Fuck me.”
Harry groans with delight and stands up. He lifts Louis up weddding-style and carries him into his bedroom, nearly dropping him in his haste to get there. Harry finally makes it to his bedroom and puts Louis down onto the bed, ripping off his jacket and boots. Louis perches on his knees, and slides his hands over Harry’s chest, slipping them under his white v-neck before sliding it off completely. Louis bends his neck and presses a light kiss to a pectoral before taking his left nipple into his mouth and sucking. Before long, he lets it go with pop and moves on to the right one. Harry is trying to get his jeans undone as fast as he can without moving Louis, who’s still hard at work (pun intended).
Louis gives Harry’s right nipple on last lick and moves down to the next two, simply pressing a feathery kiss against both before turning Harry around so his back is against the foot of the bed, and ripping his jeans and boxers off on one fluid motion.
Louis kneels and leans towards Harry’s erection, and... breathes. That’s it. He waits, breathing, blowing the occasional puff of hot air on the head, but nothing more. Harry thinks if he doesn’t get some sort of friction right now, he’s going to have to turn and start humping the bed, but right as this thought runs through his head, Louis takes the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth.
It’s perfect, really, and Harry nearly cries at the sensation. Louis’ got the perfect ratio of heat, suction and licking down and he is most definitely utilizing his talents. Louis eventually just licks, long stripes down the underside of Harry’s cock, literally driving Harry mad. When Harry really cannot take it anymore, the combination of hot breath an whatever he’s doing, he pulls Louis up. “I’m done,” he gasps, “I can’t, I need to be, be inside you.”
Louis smiles at the obvious desperation he’s invoked in Harry, and crawls onto the bed, lacing back down, legs high
“Go on then,” he says with a flirtatious smile
“But don’t you need...” Harry begins. Then he notices Louis’ hand (entire hand) moving easily back and forth, in and out of his hole, thong pushed to the side.
“Never mind,” says Harry. It’s a huge turn on to think of Louis, well, preparing himself in Harry’s flat, on Harry’s bed with Harry’s lube (how did he know where that was?) while Harry was at the club. Harry smiles, and moves forward to tower over Louis. He waits for Louis to move his hand, and then slams into him, hard. He goes deep fast; he knows Louis’ not asking for him to ‘make love’ to him. He wants Harry to fuck him.
It’s fast, and rough, but it’s also glorious and it makes Harry feel like a 16 year old again, and though it feels inexperienced, it may be the best sex he’s ever had.
It’s most definitely the best birthday present he’s ever received.