you're cold and I burn (on hold)

Harry’s lips continue, all the way down Louis’ neck, his tongue sliding out every so often <strong>and</strong>
Louis almost drops the brush, limbs going weak but Harry holds his arm, breathes out a soft,
“Don’t stop.”
His teeth are scraping the sensitive skin, <strong>and</strong> the painting is being thrown deeper into the back of
Louis’ mind as he becomes a prisoner of his own body, trapped <strong>and</strong> completely allowing every
graze of Harry’s fingertips to have his full concentration. It’s only more obvious when Louis
shakes his head, letting the brush fall to the floor with a quiet pang.
“I know you’re trying to help, but I can’t focus, I need you to-“ The sentence is abruptly stopped
when Louis decides to just do instead of say. So, he drags Harry from behind him, pulling him to
straddle his own hips in one swift movement, locking their lips together in the next.
Harry’s hips immediately begin to grind down <strong>and</strong> Louis’ throat releases a deep growl in
response. And fuck, the painting, he doesn’t care about it right this second. He cares about the way
his h<strong>and</strong>s fall perfectly on Harry’s hips, feeling the muscles move as he pushes down onto Louis’
cock. He cares about the sloppy kissing, the smack of their moistened lips, the <strong>burn</strong>ing skin. Harry
rocks so expertly, Louis can only imagine the feeling of him actually riding while Louis is
submerged deep inside of him.
“I feel you pressing into my jeans, Louis, you can have it if you want it.” Harry says, reminding
Louis that he’s all so willing, the plea in his eyes making the ‘no’ on Louis’ tongue cement in
place.
“Harry-“
“At least let me suck you off, please.” Harry rushes out before Louis can continue.
When Louis doesn’t reply, Harry sinks down to his knees, pressing kisses to the outer part of
Louis’ thigh over his jeans, <strong>and</strong> Louis can’t fight it anymore. He gives Harry a curt nod, sliding
his body closer to the edge of the chair.
Harry’s fingers go to work, quickly undoing the zip on Louis’ jeans <strong>and</strong> dragging them roughly
down his legs. His eyes widen, mouth seeming to water when Louis’ fully hard cock is exposed,
the sight making Louis almost come on the spot. Harry is just so excited.
He licks a bold stripe up Louis’ length, <strong>and</strong> the feeling is so overwhelming that Louis’ fingers dig
into the side of the chair, white-knuckling to hold himself back. Once Harry looks up at him,
peering through a forest of thick black lashes, Louis loses the hold on his words, “Oh fuck, Harry,
you’re so fucking beautiful.”
He smiles at that, wrapping his rose-pink lips around Louis’ head without breaking eye contact,
lashes fluttering as his tongue swirls around the tip.
Louis’ moan is the opposite of deep <strong>and</strong> raspy, its high <strong>and</strong> comes out more of a whimper. He has
to look away in order to last longer than a few fucking seconds because Harry watching him while
sucking his cock is too much at once <strong>and</strong> Louis could possibly explode. Harry’s tongue is
working wonders at the base, lips suctioned around <strong>and</strong> Louis’ muscles are coiled tight, breathing
in pants <strong>and</strong> clenching his teeth.
“You’re so amazing, princess.”
Harry’s own groan vibrates all the way through Louis’ cock <strong>and</strong> up his hips, making his knees
shake despite the lack of pressure. The nickname always drives Harry wild, so it’s not surprising
when he hallows out his cheeks to suck even harder, pulling every sense <strong>and</strong> ounce of heat from