could make your whole world sweet. harry/louis, nc-17.
Title: could make your whole world sweet
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s dynamic
Summary: This is what he likes best, just making Louis happy, attending to his needs. (~1,800 words)
A/N: For this prompt in which Louis is preoccupied watching a football match on TV while Harry sucks him off. Title from 'Mercy' by IAMX.
"Do you need anything?" Harry asks, not joining Louis yet, just kind of hovering nearby. "Something to drink? A beer?"
"That'd be great, babe, thanks," says Louis, without taking his eyes off the TV even though it's just adverts still, the game hasn't started.
Harry smiles and heads into the kitchen, retrieving a beer from the fridge and popping the cap off before carrying the bottle through to Louis, presenting it to him. Louis takes it, flashing him a grin in thanks, and Harry waits for another moment, wondering if there's anything else he can do.
"Do you want a snack? We've got some crisps left, or I could make you something..."
"Nah, I'm alright," Louis says warmly, patting the space next to him on the sofa. "Just sit and watch the game with me."
Harry beams, sitting down beside him obediently, tucking his legs under him and leaning in close, resting his head against Louis's shoulder. He likes watching the football, but not as much as Louis does. Mostly he just likes how into it Louis gets, and it makes him feel weirdly special to sit and watch it with him sometimes, to be able to be a part of something that Louis loves. He likes seeing Louis so happy and excited when his team is doing well, likes seeing his eyes light up when they score a goal, and he likes how focused he gets when things are a little more tense. He likes being there for Louis to celebrate with if they win, and to comfort him if they lose.
So he just sits there, head lolling against Louis as he half-follows the game but mostly tries to keep aware of whether Louis is enjoying himself or not. By half-time, Man U still haven't scored, and Louis is on edge. He's finished his beer already and he's kind of fidgety without it.
"You want another?" Harry asks, lifting his head off Louis's shoulder. "I can get you one if you want."
Louis nods, quick and sharp, agitated as he keeps his eyes on the match, and Harry gets to his feet, padding back to the kitchen quickly so he can replace the empty bottle with a fresh one. When he comes back Louis is frowning at the TV and doesn't even smile at Harry this time, just reaches out blindly for the beer.
"Lou," says Harry quietly, not wanting to distract him too much, "do you need anything else? I could-do you want me to suck you off?"
Louis's eyes flicker a little in surprise; he opens his mouth to speak but then there's a sudden uproar from the TV and he gets distracted and just nods instead. Harry drops to his knees instantly, shuffling between Louis's legs. Louis hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pyjama trousers to take them off but he can't seem to multitask, going still again as there's a loud outburst from a commentator. The game seems to be getting more exciting and Harry wonders what's happening but-this is more important.
"Here, let me-" he says, so all Louis has to do is hitch his hips up a little and let Harry tug the trousers down. He's not wearing any underwear underneath, so Harry can get straight to work, spreading Louis's legs a little wider as he fits himself closer between them and leans in, nuzzling against Louis's cock, licking gently at him to start getting him excited.
Louis makes a small noise which at first Harry thinks is approval, but then realises is frustration at the fact that Harry's head is in the way of the TV. Louis pushes him down suddenly and Harry's face gets pressed right against Louis's cock; he gasps and then breathes hotly against it, feeling it starting to stiffen against his mouth. Louis holds him there, fingers threading through his hair, to make sure he understands, and Harry stays down. He starts to run his tongue over Louis's shaft, getting him harder until he can take him between his lips easily. Louis inhales sharply as Harry's warm mouth envelops him but he's still focused on the match. He brings his beer to his mouth hesitantly and takes a swig, and his other hand falls from Harry's head, seeming to relax, then, sinking back into the sofa. Harry's heart swells with pride at being able to do this for him, relieve the tension somewhat.
He works at Louis enthusiastically, wanting to make it good-not good enough to distract him of course, but enough to make him happy, to soften the blow in case the match isn't going the way he wants or just to add to his enjoyment if it is. He can't bob his head too much in case he gets in the way so he doesn't come off very far, keeping Louis's cock deep. His body protests a little; he's breathing hard through his nose and making small noises that he can't help, and suddenly he sees Louis reach out beside him for the remote, hold down a button. The volume of the TV increases, and Harry feels guilty, staring up at Louis's face and trying to work out if he seems mad. He doesn't look it though, just fixated on the game, and it's hard to tell if he thinks Harry is doing a good job or not. Harry wants to know, so he can make it better if he needs to.
He pulls off and Louis doesn't seem to notice, so he has to lift his head more to catch his attention. "Am I doing good, babe?" he asks, needing to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of all the cheering and the commentary, and feeling bad for it.
Louis says, "Yeah, uh huh," without looking at him, pointing at the TV in explanation and then pushing Harry's head back down to make sure he gets the message, and Harry barely pays any attention to the forcefulness of the gesture, too busy thrilling at the reassurance Louis gave him. He takes Louis's cock back in and suckles, loving the way that he fills his mouth up.
His hands rest on Louis's hips, fingers splayed out. He's not trying to hold Louis down or anything, keeping the touch gentle to let Louis know he can start fucking his mouth if he wants. Louis is concentrating too hard on the TV though and doesn't want to have to work for this, letting Harry be the one to make the effort. Harry pulls off to mouth at Louis's balls, feel them against the flat of his tongue, and Louis squirms a little. Harry thinks he might hear his breath catch too but it's hard to tell. He laps softly and gazes up at him, contented-this, this is what he likes best, just making Louis happy, attending to his needs. He moves back up, wanting to be thorough, swirling his tongue around the head of Louis's cock and tasting the pre-come gathering there. He feels his stomach twist a little with pleasure at how hard Louis is now, at knowing he did that for him, got his cock all flushed and firm, slick and pulsing against Harry's tongue.
Harry's starting to hurt a little from his crumpled position on the floor, his muscles straining, but it's a distant awareness in the back of his mind; all that really matters to him is bringing Louis off. He takes Louis deep again, keeps his lips sliding over him, and it's messy-it's always like this, sloppy because he's so eager, he's never really been able to work out any sort of technique but it's the enthusiasm that Louis loves, the way that Harry is always so desperate to please. And Harry knows that right now Louis is preoccupied, but he doesn't mind. He's willing to keep going for as long as it takes, even if his jaw starts to seize up.
He can feel that Louis is getting closer though, his hips beginning to move in subtle, almost automatic movements so that he's rocking up gently against Harry's mouth. Harry notices Louis's fingers have gone slack around his beer, too-he obviously can't focus on watching something, holding something, and having Harry blow him all at the same time. Harry reaches out without removing his mouth from Louis's cock, taking the bottle and putting it behind him on the coffee table so it doesn't spill.
He takes Louis in really deep now, letting his eyes water a little as he struggles, pushing himself until he feels his nose brush Louis's stomach and the head of his cock at the back of his throat. He's about to ease back off, the reflexive panic kicking in at how constricted he feels, but then Louis suddenly grasps his head, fingers tangling in Harry's hair as he holds him there and keeps himself deep. He lets out a whine and his thighs go taut as he comes in a hot pulse down Harry's throat, and Harry tries not to choke, waiting trustingly for Louis to let him up even as his throat is burning. Louis does, then, and Harry tries not to splutter too loud as he swallows repeatedly. He glances up to check on Louis and sees that he's wiping the sweat from his forehead and still staring at the TV, sitting forward so he can see properly and looking a little dazed. Harry notices that Louis's palm is on his cheek, that it slid there when Harry straightened up, and the touch feels soothing on his hot skin.
"You okay?" Harry asks, eyes remaining on Louis as he fumbles around behind him until his hand comes into contact with the box of tissues on the coffee table.
"Uh huh," Louis says distractedly, and Harry nods to himself, satisfied, pulling a couple of tissues out and wiping Louis down first, then his own mouth and hands. Then he eases Louis back into his pyjama bottoms, guiding each foot into a leg hole and getting him to lift his hips up again so he can pull them up properly.
He sits back beside Louis on the sofa, legs aching, and reaches out to return Louis's beer to him. Louis takes it and grins, reaching out to put his other arm around Harry, pulling him close and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Amazing as always, babe," he murmurs. "Love the way you take care of me."
Harry glows, snuggling into him. "Do you want me to stay?"
"Yeah, 'course," Louis replies, and nudges Harry down a little, gesturing for him to settle his head in his lap. Harry smiles, nestling there on the firm warmth of Louis's thighs and feeling fingers starting to play with his hair. He can taste Louis in his mouth still, feel the lingering ache in his throat, and he sighs happily, closing his eyes as he realises he doesn't care about the game at all anymore.
End.
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: D/s dynamic
Summary: This is what he likes best, just making Louis happy, attending to his needs. (~1,800 words)
A/N: For this prompt in which Louis is preoccupied watching a football match on TV while Harry sucks him off. Title from 'Mercy' by IAMX.
"Do you need anything?" Harry asks, not joining Louis yet, just kind of hovering nearby. "Something to drink? A beer?"
"That'd be great, babe, thanks," says Louis, without taking his eyes off the TV even though it's just adverts still, the game hasn't started.
Harry smiles and heads into the kitchen, retrieving a beer from the fridge and popping the cap off before carrying the bottle through to Louis, presenting it to him. Louis takes it, flashing him a grin in thanks, and Harry waits for another moment, wondering if there's anything else he can do.
"Do you want a snack? We've got some crisps left, or I could make you something..."
"Nah, I'm alright," Louis says warmly, patting the space next to him on the sofa. "Just sit and watch the game with me."
Harry beams, sitting down beside him obediently, tucking his legs under him and leaning in close, resting his head against Louis's shoulder. He likes watching the football, but not as much as Louis does. Mostly he just likes how into it Louis gets, and it makes him feel weirdly special to sit and watch it with him sometimes, to be able to be a part of something that Louis loves. He likes seeing Louis so happy and excited when his team is doing well, likes seeing his eyes light up when they score a goal, and he likes how focused he gets when things are a little more tense. He likes being there for Louis to celebrate with if they win, and to comfort him if they lose.
So he just sits there, head lolling against Louis as he half-follows the game but mostly tries to keep aware of whether Louis is enjoying himself or not. By half-time, Man U still haven't scored, and Louis is on edge. He's finished his beer already and he's kind of fidgety without it.
"You want another?" Harry asks, lifting his head off Louis's shoulder. "I can get you one if you want."
Louis nods, quick and sharp, agitated as he keeps his eyes on the match, and Harry gets to his feet, padding back to the kitchen quickly so he can replace the empty bottle with a fresh one. When he comes back Louis is frowning at the TV and doesn't even smile at Harry this time, just reaches out blindly for the beer.
"Lou," says Harry quietly, not wanting to distract him too much, "do you need anything else? I could-do you want me to suck you off?"
Louis's eyes flicker a little in surprise; he opens his mouth to speak but then there's a sudden uproar from the TV and he gets distracted and just nods instead. Harry drops to his knees instantly, shuffling between Louis's legs. Louis hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pyjama trousers to take them off but he can't seem to multitask, going still again as there's a loud outburst from a commentator. The game seems to be getting more exciting and Harry wonders what's happening but-this is more important.
"Here, let me-" he says, so all Louis has to do is hitch his hips up a little and let Harry tug the trousers down. He's not wearing any underwear underneath, so Harry can get straight to work, spreading Louis's legs a little wider as he fits himself closer between them and leans in, nuzzling against Louis's cock, licking gently at him to start getting him excited.
Louis makes a small noise which at first Harry thinks is approval, but then realises is frustration at the fact that Harry's head is in the way of the TV. Louis pushes him down suddenly and Harry's face gets pressed right against Louis's cock; he gasps and then breathes hotly against it, feeling it starting to stiffen against his mouth. Louis holds him there, fingers threading through his hair, to make sure he understands, and Harry stays down. He starts to run his tongue over Louis's shaft, getting him harder until he can take him between his lips easily. Louis inhales sharply as Harry's warm mouth envelops him but he's still focused on the match. He brings his beer to his mouth hesitantly and takes a swig, and his other hand falls from Harry's head, seeming to relax, then, sinking back into the sofa. Harry's heart swells with pride at being able to do this for him, relieve the tension somewhat.
He works at Louis enthusiastically, wanting to make it good-not good enough to distract him of course, but enough to make him happy, to soften the blow in case the match isn't going the way he wants or just to add to his enjoyment if it is. He can't bob his head too much in case he gets in the way so he doesn't come off very far, keeping Louis's cock deep. His body protests a little; he's breathing hard through his nose and making small noises that he can't help, and suddenly he sees Louis reach out beside him for the remote, hold down a button. The volume of the TV increases, and Harry feels guilty, staring up at Louis's face and trying to work out if he seems mad. He doesn't look it though, just fixated on the game, and it's hard to tell if he thinks Harry is doing a good job or not. Harry wants to know, so he can make it better if he needs to.
He pulls off and Louis doesn't seem to notice, so he has to lift his head more to catch his attention. "Am I doing good, babe?" he asks, needing to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of all the cheering and the commentary, and feeling bad for it.
Louis says, "Yeah, uh huh," without looking at him, pointing at the TV in explanation and then pushing Harry's head back down to make sure he gets the message, and Harry barely pays any attention to the forcefulness of the gesture, too busy thrilling at the reassurance Louis gave him. He takes Louis's cock back in and suckles, loving the way that he fills his mouth up.
His hands rest on Louis's hips, fingers splayed out. He's not trying to hold Louis down or anything, keeping the touch gentle to let Louis know he can start fucking his mouth if he wants. Louis is concentrating too hard on the TV though and doesn't want to have to work for this, letting Harry be the one to make the effort. Harry pulls off to mouth at Louis's balls, feel them against the flat of his tongue, and Louis squirms a little. Harry thinks he might hear his breath catch too but it's hard to tell. He laps softly and gazes up at him, contented-this, this is what he likes best, just making Louis happy, attending to his needs. He moves back up, wanting to be thorough, swirling his tongue around the head of Louis's cock and tasting the pre-come gathering there. He feels his stomach twist a little with pleasure at how hard Louis is now, at knowing he did that for him, got his cock all flushed and firm, slick and pulsing against Harry's tongue.
Harry's starting to hurt a little from his crumpled position on the floor, his muscles straining, but it's a distant awareness in the back of his mind; all that really matters to him is bringing Louis off. He takes Louis deep again, keeps his lips sliding over him, and it's messy-it's always like this, sloppy because he's so eager, he's never really been able to work out any sort of technique but it's the enthusiasm that Louis loves, the way that Harry is always so desperate to please. And Harry knows that right now Louis is preoccupied, but he doesn't mind. He's willing to keep going for as long as it takes, even if his jaw starts to seize up.
He can feel that Louis is getting closer though, his hips beginning to move in subtle, almost automatic movements so that he's rocking up gently against Harry's mouth. Harry notices Louis's fingers have gone slack around his beer, too-he obviously can't focus on watching something, holding something, and having Harry blow him all at the same time. Harry reaches out without removing his mouth from Louis's cock, taking the bottle and putting it behind him on the coffee table so it doesn't spill.
He takes Louis in really deep now, letting his eyes water a little as he struggles, pushing himself until he feels his nose brush Louis's stomach and the head of his cock at the back of his throat. He's about to ease back off, the reflexive panic kicking in at how constricted he feels, but then Louis suddenly grasps his head, fingers tangling in Harry's hair as he holds him there and keeps himself deep. He lets out a whine and his thighs go taut as he comes in a hot pulse down Harry's throat, and Harry tries not to choke, waiting trustingly for Louis to let him up even as his throat is burning. Louis does, then, and Harry tries not to splutter too loud as he swallows repeatedly. He glances up to check on Louis and sees that he's wiping the sweat from his forehead and still staring at the TV, sitting forward so he can see properly and looking a little dazed. Harry notices that Louis's palm is on his cheek, that it slid there when Harry straightened up, and the touch feels soothing on his hot skin.
"You okay?" Harry asks, eyes remaining on Louis as he fumbles around behind him until his hand comes into contact with the box of tissues on the coffee table.
"Uh huh," Louis says distractedly, and Harry nods to himself, satisfied, pulling a couple of tissues out and wiping Louis down first, then his own mouth and hands. Then he eases Louis back into his pyjama bottoms, guiding each foot into a leg hole and getting him to lift his hips up again so he can pull them up properly.
He sits back beside Louis on the sofa, legs aching, and reaches out to return Louis's beer to him. Louis takes it and grins, reaching out to put his other arm around Harry, pulling him close and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Amazing as always, babe," he murmurs. "Love the way you take care of me."
Harry glows, snuggling into him. "Do you want me to stay?"
"Yeah, 'course," Louis replies, and nudges Harry down a little, gesturing for him to settle his head in his lap. Harry smiles, nestling there on the firm warmth of Louis's thighs and feeling fingers starting to play with his hair. He can taste Louis in his mouth still, feel the lingering ache in his throat, and he sighs happily, closing his eyes as he realises he doesn't care about the game at all anymore.
End.