7 Up

Louis groans when Harry sits up on his knees and pulls down Louis’ trousers and pants in one
swift motion. His cock is standing up, hard and shiny at the tip. Harry’s hands are shaking, he’s
been waiting for this for months. Years, maybe.
He bends down to breathe hot air over Louis’ dick, Louis twitching beneath him, gasping slightly.
“You this hard just from the idea of my mouth?”
Louis clears his throat. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. If anyone had been grinding against me
for the past half hour, I’d be this hard. It’s not all about you, Styles.”
Harry smirks. “It’s gonna be all about me.”
“We’ll see.”
He’s never done this before, but his cock is throbbing in his pants with how badly he wants to. He
grips Louis at the base and in one sinking motion, he takes him most of the way down before he
gags. Louis reaches down to grip at Harry’s hair. “Baby, just take a little bit, yeah?” he says, voice
already wavering. “Do sound so fucking lovely choking on my cock, though.”
Harry pulls off completely, making Louis groan. “Shut up. And don’t call me ‘baby.’ It’s like
you’re mocking me.”
Louis lifts his hips off the couch a bit, mindlessly chasing the feeling of Harry’s mouth again.
“Haz, don’t stop. Please,” he whines. He never begs. Or says please. Harry’s feeling smug, and so,
so turned on.
He takes him down again, not as deep this time, and gets a steady rhythm going. Up, down, up,
down, swirl of the tongue, jerk of the hand, slide down as far as his throat will allow him to, repeat.
He grips the meatiest part of Louis’ hips with his left hand to steady him, his right hand working
mercilessly over Louis’ cock.
It doesn’t long before Louis’ moans are coming out much higher pitched and much more
frequently. His breathing picks up, his chest heaving, and Harry can tell he’s close. He pulls off,
licking the tip, and murmurs, “Knew you would taste good. And knew you would look so fucking
hot like this, all worked up for me.” Louis whines. “‘m so hard, Lou. Christ. Wanna watch you
come.” He sinks back down, much further this time, keeping his eyes on Louis’ face.
“Harry, I’m gonna,” he manages to stutter out, as if Harry couldn’t tell based on the way Louis’
thighs and stomach were trembling. He works his mouth over him as he feels Louis’ orgasm
building, his jaw beginning to ache, but he doesn’t care.
Louis comes with a shout, flooding Harry’s mouth, and Harry can’t believe how unbearably hot
Louis is, hips still thrusting lazily into Harry’s mouth even after he’s come down, hands still
gripping at Harry’s curls.
Harry sits up and presses his palm against his own cock through his pants. “‘m not sure that
constituted as the ‘quiet orgasm’ we had talked about, Lou,” he says, grinning and pleased with his
work.
Louis rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”