Work Text:
“Brilliant,” Harry said to himself with a snicker as he pressed share on his Close Friends Instagram story. He knew that the boys would get a kick out of the outfit he had chosen for his workout, a One Direction shirt from their first tour. They would probably tease him for it, especially Louis, but Harry thought it was fun to reminisce about the old days, when he and his mates were just starting out, unaware of the amazing places their career would take them. All these years later, Harry still remembered those times fondly, and he hoped that seeing the shirt would bring a smile to the other lads’ faces as well.
He turned on his workout playlist and set his phone down before heading over to his treadmill and starting it up. A smirk spread across his face as a One Direction song started to play through the speakers, urging him to begin his jog.
~
“Nice ‘fit,” Louis said as he approached Harry on the resistance machine.
Harry looked up, not even having heard his husband come into their gym. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he had managed to conjure a thin layer of sweat on his skin and a dull ache deep in his muscles. “Thanks,” Harry said with a grin. “I posted it in my Close Friends story, but none of the boys responded to it yet.”
“Actually,” Louis said with a chuckle, “you posted that publicly, babe.”
“Shit, I did?” Harry exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to his phone. A few taps later and he saw that Louis was right. He hurried to delete the photo, but he knew that the damage had already been done. Twitter was probably in a frenzy. He paused his music and then ran his hands through his damp locks with a sigh. “Dammit.”
“What’s wrong, love? You don’t want the world to know how you’re secretly a huge One Direction fan?” Louis teased, but Harry ignored him.
“The fans are going to think this is some sort of hint at a reunion or something. The boys are going to kill me. Fuck, how could I have been so careless?”
“Hey,” Louis said gently, coming up beside Harry. “It’s alright, love, relax. The boys will understand, and the fans will always think what they want to think. We can’t help that. It will be fine, don’t beat yourself up over it. Come here.” He held his arms open, but Harry waved him off.
“You don’t want to hug me, I’m all gross,” he said, turning back to his phone and opening Twitter. He needed to see what people were saying.
“I don’t care; come here,” Louis said again, taking the phone from Harry and pulling the man into his arms.
Harry nuzzled into him, appreciating the comforting gesture. Just being in Louis’ arms already had his heart slowing to an even pace. His husband always knew how to make him feel better
“Besides,” Louis said, pulling back slightly and cupping Harry’s chin. “Now the rest of the world can join me in making fun of you for wearing this ridiculous thing. You look like a little fangirl.”
Harry gave him a shove. “You’re such a wanker sometimes,” he laughed, trying to pull away from their hug so he could get undressed. His clothes were starting to stick to his body, and the shower was calling his name.
Louis held onto Harry’s hand and pulled him back. “Wait a minute,” he said, forcing Harry to stand in front of him again. “It’s the weekend.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So,” Louis went on, fingers coming to brush softly against Harry’s bare neck, “where is your collar?”
Harry made a face. “It’s on my dresser. You know I don’t wear it when I work out,” he stated evenly, wondering how his husband could have forgotten. Louis was the one who had made the rule in the first place, saying something about not wanting Harry to feel like he couldn’t breathe properly and how it could strangle him accidentally while working out if it got caught on something. “I’ll put it on after my shower.” He tried to walk away again, but once more, Louis tugged him back.
“Wait.” Louis pulled him in for a slow kiss, drawing a light moan from Harry’s throat. “Wait here,” the man murmured against Harry’s lips.
Harry complied and started to remove his sticky shirt as Louis separated their bodies.
“No,” Louis said, pushing Harry’s hands down and uncurling his fingers from the fabric. “Leave this on. I’ll be right back.”
Harry crossed his arms with a huff as Louis disappeared, wondering what on earth his husband could be making him wait for. Louis had been ribbing him only moments ago about how silly the shirt was, and now he was telling Harry not to take it off? Harry didn’t get it. He picked at his nails impatiently, fidgeting in place while he waited.
Finally Louis came back into the gym holding something behind his back.
Harry tipped his head to the side with curiosity as Louis told him to close his eyes. “Louis,” he whined petulantly. “I want to shower.”
“Hush,” Louis said, shoving something into Harry’s hands. “Open.”
Harry opened his eyes and examined the object that he was holding. It appeared to be a dog collar with his face on it, as well as the faces of his husband and their three band mates. “Louis,” he said with a snort. “What is this?”
“A collar,” Louis said simply as Harry turned it over in his hands.
“Well, I can see that,” Harry replied, looking up to see that Louis was holding a drawstring bag with a large 1D on the front. “What’s in the bag?”
Louis waved off his question as he set the bag down and took the collar from Harry’s hands. “Nevermind that. Come here.”
Harry raised his eyebrows as Louis unbuckled the collar, indicating that he intended to put it on Harry. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” Louis said, hands coming to either side of Harry’s neck. “Humor me, babe.”
“Where did you even get this?” Harry asked as Louis wrapped the collar around him delicately
“I think Phoebe got it on Etsy for Cliff a few years ago, but I put it away and forgot about it. Seeing your shirt made me remember.” He buckled the clip with a smirk, tightening the collar until it sat snug against Harry’s Adam’s apple.
Harry swallowed, mouth suddenly feeling extra wet as a rush of submission surged through his veins at the feeling of a collar around his throat. Even if it wasn’t his regular collar, the effect was seemingly still the same.
Part of Harry wanted to tell Louis that this was silly—this was a dog collar with their best friends’ faces from when they were teenagers, for crying out loud—but he couldn’t find the words. Another part of him felt the urge to drop to his knees and bow his head, handing over his submission to Louis, but he wasn’t sure of Louis' intention behind giving him the collar. Instead, Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as Louis walked over to where he had left the bag.
He picked it up and reached inside, pulling out several bracelets of different styles. A few were silicone, some were beaded, and one seemed to be a charm bracelet. They all appeared to be old One Direction merch, and a couple had Louis’ name or face on them. Where had he been keeping all of this?
Harry watched helplessly as Louis slipped them onto his wrist. Seeing Louis’ name wrapped around his anchor tattoo felt like an entirely new kind of collar, one that told the world who he belonged to. He felt himself getting hard as he realized that hundreds of girls had worn these bracelets too, but only he was able to assign this intimate meaning to them.
Louis stepped back to look at him. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little Directioner?” he gushed with a grin.
“Louiiiis,” Harry whined in embarrassment, braceleted hand coming to his mouth instinctively to chew at the skin next to his thumb nail.
Louis batted his hand away. “None of that now,” he said gently, and Harry tucked his hands behind his back. Louis’ eyes darkened in a familiar way, causing Harry’s dick to respond with a twitch in his gym shorts. When Louis spoke again, his voice was deeper, more formal and serious. “Tell me, darling. Are you hoping to get backstage at the concert tonight?”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he found himself nodding shyly, a shiver running up his spine as he instantly fell into the little game Louis was trying to play.
“I see,” Louis replied, folding his arms across his chest. He raised his eyebrows before asking, “And who’s your favorite member, love?”
Harry felt his cheeks heating, and he began fidgeting, toeing at the ground with the tip of his trainer. “Louis,” he mumbled shyly, not meeting the man’s gaze.
“What was that? I can’t hear you, pet.”
Harry let out a sharp breath, bringing his hands back to his front and beginning to play with one of the charms on his bracelet. “Louis’ my favorite,” he spoke up, trying to sound confident.
“Ah, he’s a handsome lad, that one,” Louis said, and Harry bit back a giggle. “But there are a lot of Louis girls here tonight. He only wants to spend time with the best girls. Why should you be the one he invites backstage?”
Harry chewed at the inside of his cheek as he pondered Louis’ question. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer it.
Louis seemed to notice Harry’s internal struggle. “I hear he loves pretty girls,” he went on. “Do you think you’re pretty enough?”
Harry pulled at his lip anxiously with a nod, watching as Louis’ arm disappeared into the bag once more.
The man held up a single tube of One Direction lipstick, uncapping it and coming up to Harry. “Let’s make you extra pretty, love,” he murmured, pulling Harry’s hand away from his mouth and beginning to swipe the bright pink over his lips.
Harry had completely forgotten that he even had any of their lipstick. He used to have several tubes in every color, but he misplaced them during one of the times that he and Louis moved houses. He wasn’t sure where Louis found this one. The pink one with his husband’s signature was always Harry’s favorite, the same one Louis was using now to color Harry’s pouty mouth.
Once his lips were covered, Louis drew what felt like a heart on Harry’s left cheek.
“There,” Louis said, closing the lipstick and tucking it back in the bag. “Now you’re the prettiest Louis-girl here.”
Harry blushed, and he was sure that his cheeks were probably turning a similar color to the stain on his lips.
“Definitely pretty enough to meet Louis, I’d say. Would you like that, darling?” Louis asked kindly.
Harry nodded again, fingers twiddling the beads at his wrist. “Yes, please.”
“Come with me.”
Harry followed his husband with a mixture of excitement and nerves vibrating in his chest. It was silly, he knew, to be worked up over “meeting” the man he was literally married to, but something about the way Louis’ eyes were sparkling when he spoke had Harry’s heart skipping beat after beat. His feet wanted to do the same, the urge to skip steps as he climbed the stairs tingling in his toes, but Louis was only taking one at a time. It was probably for the best, as Harry was sure that his giddiness would have caused him to trip and fall. He was anxious to see what Louis had planned.
Louis led them to their bedroom, telling Harry to “wait here” before disappearing into their en suite.
Harry played with his fingers nervously while he waited, eager to see his husband again. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, dragging his magenta bottom lip out from where it had been instinctively tucked behind his teeth. He turned his head to the side and saw that Louis had indeed drawn a heart, which made Harry’s own heart bubble with joy. The simple gesture made him feel so loved, so cared for, and part of him wanted to stare at the mark all day, maybe tattoo it into his skin so he had a permanent reminder of how much his husband loved him.
Harry heard the bathroom doorknob, and he pulled his gaze away from the mirror.
Louis finally appeared, a wide grin on his face as he came up to Harry again. “Hi there, doll. I’m Louis. What’s your name?”
Harry had seen Louis with the same charming smile and carefree voice hundreds of times with fans they’d had the chance to meet in the past. Knowing that this time it was for him had his stomach feeling like the butterfly stamped onto it had dipped its wings inside and was fluttering them rapidly. “Erm, ‘m Harry,” he said timidly, trying not to feel awkward as Louis pulled him into a friendly hug.
“Nice to meet you, love,” Louis said sweetly, ending their hug but still keeping their arms together. “I hear you’re One Direction’s biggest fan.”
Harry nodded, forcing himself to look Louis in the eyes. They were still twinkling mischievously, deep in the back of his irises where Harry often found lust and dominance and a whole concoction of emotions that always made him dizzy with want, maybe even need.
Louis lowered his voice, as if someone might hear him. “Forgive me for being so forward, darling, but you’ve got to be one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen.”
Harry’s cheeks felt like they might melt off of his face at Louis’ compliment. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly, fighting the urge to bite his lip again.
“You know,” Louis went on, reaching up to remove the hair clip holding back Harry’s fringe, “I never do this, but I was wondering if I could maybe show you a good time before the concert.” He looped a single finger under Harry’s collar, pulling him closer until Louis’ lips were at his ear. “‘Go all the way,’ as the song says.”
Harry wanted to giggle, but all that came out was a soft whimper as Louis’ breath brought a field of goosebumps to the surface of Harry’s skin.
Louis’ free hand was now gently ghosting down Harry’s arm, slipping past his wrist until fingers gripped his hip and connected their groins. A low groan buzzed from Harry’s throat as he felt how hard his husband was. “What do you say, baby?” Louis asked huskily. “I could take you to another world.”
Harry might have snickered and given Louis a playful shove with how cheesy he was being, sneaking their old lyrics into his dirty talk, except for the fact that Harry was also achingly hard and eager to dissolve into Louis’ hold. “Yeah,” he said breathily, eyes blinking closed as Louis kissed below his ear. “I’d—” he gasped at the feeling of Louis’ teeth softly nipping at his flesh. “I’d like that.”
Louis hummed lowly, slinking his hand between them and gripping Harry’s clothed crotch, earning a gasp from Harry’s lungs. “That’s good love. But first…” He pulled his head back and brought his other hand to Harry’s face, letting his thumb catch against Harry’s painted bottom lip. “Do you think you could be a good girl for me and let me see how nice these lips would look wrapped around my dick? Show me how big of a fan you really are?”
Harry nodded eagerly, letting his lip be dragged downward as Louis stared at it hungrily. “Yes,” Harry said, trying not to seem too giddy as Louis gently pushed him to his knees. Giving his husband head was one of his favorite ways to pleasure him, and Harry knew that Louis especially loved to get his shaft between Harry’s lips when they were tinged red or pink. The fact that this time they had been colored with One Direction makeup somehow made it feel so much naughtier.
“So pretty,” Louis muttered quietly, almost as if he was saying it to himself rather than to Harry. He removed his cock from his shorts and presented it to Harry, who eagerly took it in his mouth and all the way down his throat. “Shit,” Louis wheezed, hand coming to settle gently on the back of Harry’s head as the boy began working his mouth up and down. “You’re an enthusiastic one, aren’t you?”
Harry hummed in response, bringing his hand to grip Louis at the base. He pulled his mouth up Louis’ shaft with a timed slowness, letting his tongue soak the man from root to tip and drawing out a groan from above him. He popped off and pressed a fuschia kiss to the head, pausing a moment as he noticed the striking contrast of his juvenile-looking bracelets resting against Louis’ pubes. Harry shivered slightly as he lowered down again, relishing in the way Louis’ fingers gripped his hair.
Louis moaned, head falling backwards as Harry let the tip press against the back of his throat. “I would return the favor when you’re done, sweetheart,” Louis said, tone slightly strained, “but I have to save my voice for the show.”
Harry tried to hum in response, but it was cut off sharply as Louis began heaving his hips forward. “Fuck, baby. That mouth…” He pressed his fingertips into the back of Harry’s head, holding him down as the boy opened his throat for Louis to continue his thrusts. “So glad I picked you for this, love,” Louis muttered between breaths. “So many girls dying to get my cock down their throats, but it just…” He let out a loud moan. “Just fits so damn nicely in yours.”
Harry gagged as tears formed in his eyes, and fuck, did he love the feeling of being stuffed full of Louis, drooling around him, struggling to take in breaths with his nose pressed to the light hairs at the base of Louis’ shaft, and only mere centimeters away from choking.
Louis suddenly pulled him off by his hair, and Harry gasped for air as he looked up at the man, who was now thumbing through the mess of spit and lipstick smeared down Harry’s chin.
Harry closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, tipping his chin upwards as Louis ran his finger over Harry’s slickened lips.
“Wanna bend you over,” Louis was saying when Harry opened his eyes again. “Wanna fuck you, baby, want to be inside you. Get up, love, take off your bottoms.
Harry obeyed willingly, standing up to slip his pants and trousers down his legs and nearly falling when he tried to pull them off as he realized he was still wearing his trainers. After some stumbling and fumbled removals, he was soon bare from the waist down and bent over the bed.
“Would you look at that,” Louis said, grabbing a handful of flesh from Harry’s right arsecheek. “Even gorgeous from this angle. I really do have the prettiest fans.”
Harry was glad that his body was resting on the bed because he was sure that he would have liquified and seeped into the carpet with how hot Louis’ words were making him feel.
He held his breath as Louis slipped a lubed finger inside of him moments later, tensing involuntarily.
“Breathe, baby,” Louis said softly, and for a moment it was Harry’s Louis, not Louis from One Direction fucking a fan in his dressing room. It was Harry’s husband, the man who loved him so much and had been with him long enough to know that Harry needed to be reminded to breathe through the first touch Louis gave him from the inside.
Harry’s chest was so full with love and warmth, and he felt so wonderfully taken care of as he slowly let out the breath he was holding and continued to breathe deeply when Louis added a second finger. Harry whined lightly at the stretch.
“Easy, love,” Louis said gently as both fingers began to open Harry up.
Several deep breaths later and Harry was pushing back against Louis’ digits, tiny whimpers dripping from his mouth as he silently begged for more.
“Look at you,” Louis said, his playful tone returning as he crooked his fingers in such a way that had Harry’s knees buckling. “You’re such a desperate little fangirl, aren’t you? Dying to be dicked down by your favorite popstar.”
Harry nodded wordlessly, breaths now coming in quick pants as Louis fingered him faster. “Yes,” he said between his teeth, fingers searching for something to grab onto. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Well then,” Louis said, slowing his hand and then pulling his fingers out completely. “I think we can arrange that. My biggest fan deserves a little something special to remember her first concert by.”
Harry lay with his cheek against the bed, breathing hard as he waited for Louis to return. He heard the lube bottle snap closed, and moments later, Louis was pushing his cock into Harry, entering him at an agonizingly slow pace. Harry wrestled with the desire to shove his hips back and swallow Louis whole, but instead he gripped the blanket tightly until Louis bottomed out.
“You’re so tight, love,” Louis murmured, circling his fingertips against the small of Harry’s back. “And you’re so wet for me.”
Harry thought he might pass out at how Louis’ words suffocated him, slithering into his chest, wrapping themselves around his ribs and squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. Then all at once the air was sucked back into his chest with a gasp as Louis started moving.
“Louis,” Harry sighed deliciously, his eyes fluttering as his mouth fell open.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Tell me who your favorite is.”
Harry moaned at this, rutting his cock against the bed as his hips were held tightly. “Louis, Louis, you, it’s you,” he babbled, quickly losing himself in the way Louis’ cock was plowing into him repeatedly. “You’re—you’re my favorite, Louis, you, Louis, please.”
“Good girl,” Louis praised lowly, fingering at the hair on the back of Harry’s head. He wrapped a few strands around his fingers and gave a light yank, tugging until Harry’s face lifted off the mattress in a loud moan.
“Fuck, Louis,” Harry gasped, the sounds from his throat becoming louder and more wrecked.
Louis pulled Harry up by the shoulder until his back was flush against Louis’ chest before he clapped one of his hands over Harry’s mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” Louis breathed in the boy’s ear. “Don’t want the other lads to hear that I’m fucking a fan just before the show.” Harry gave a muffled sob at this, closing his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks and over Louis’ fingers, all while Louis continued railing into him.
A few thrusts later and Louis paused, reaching over for the abandoned One Direction bag that Harry hadn’t noticed he’d put on the bed. He pulled out a tank top that Harry immediately recognized as another piece of merch. Louis bunched it into a ball, before opening Harry’s mouth with his empty hand and stuffing the shirt inside.
“There you go, baby,” Louis said, giving Harry’s back a light push until he was face down on the bed again. “Now you can scream like the little fangirl you are, and nobody will hear a thing.”
Harry sobbed again, gripping the bedsheets as Louis started up his motions, knocking Harry’s hips and cock repeatedly into the mattress.
“You’re so sexy, darling,” Louis praised, holding onto Harry’s side with one hand and dragging his fingernails down Harry’s back with the other. “Such a slutty little fangirl. What do you think the other fans will say when they see your lipstick smeared from sucking me off?”
Harry let out a deep shouted moan, but the sound barely reached his ears as it poured into the shirt in his mouth.
“I should bring you out on stage in front of everyone, show them how well you take my cock, make all the other girls jealous.”
Harry felt more tears falling onto the bed, and the cotton in his mouth was quickly becoming soaked with drool. He whined rhythmically in time with Louis’ hips as the man continued feeding their dirty fantasy.
“Or maybe—fuck—maybe you could take it down your throat again while I sing. Then the boys would be the jealous ones. They wouldn’t have a pretty girl on her knees for them, huh baby?”
Harry choked on a sob again as he felt his orgasm nearing already, and he reached behind him blindly for Louis’ hand.
Louis immediately understood and took Harry’s hand in his, thumb smoothing over Harry’s skin soothingly as he spoke again. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you, darling? Just loved getting fucked by Louis from One Direction wearing nothing but your little fangirl merch.”
Harry was full on crying now, face wet and sticky with tears and the smudges of his lipstick heart. He was aching so badly for his finish as Louis screwed him roughly, still spewing filthy things to drive Harry closer to the edge.
“Such a slutty little fangirl. Bet she’s going to go home and write fanfiction about this later.”
Louis’ name was lost in Harry’s mouth as he moaned, head spinning with heated need as his climax built up between his hips
“I want you to scream for me, baby,” Louis said next, his words sounding like an order as they struck Harry’s ears. “I want you to scream like it’s the final encore, and you’re desperate for me to notice you in the front row.”
Harry bit down hard on the shirt in his mouth, tensing suddenly before his body let go in a shudder as he came with a harsh wail that he knew would be piercing his ears if it wasn’t being absorbed by the fabric on his tongue.
Two thrusts later and Louis was coming as well, with moans of, “oh fuck,” floating into Harry’s ears through his post orgasmic haziness.
Harry was soon being rolled over, and he gagged with a sob as the damp shirt was pulled from his mouth.
“It’s okay, baby, just breathe,” Louis, his Louis, was saying gently as he helped Harry sit up. A glass of water was soon pressed to Harry’s lips, and he drank with trembling lips as Louis held him up. “You did so well, kitten, so good for me.”
Harry was only half processing the man’s words as Louis helped him to lie against the pillows. A wet flannel was soon on his face, and then his groin, wiping him gently until he was clean. He could feel the bracelets being removed from his wrists and the collar he’d forgotten was there being unclipped from his neck.
Louis started to remove the shirt Harry was wearing, but Harry instantly grabbed the man’s wrists, panicked whimpers spilling from his nose. “What is it, angel?” Louis asked calmly, letting go of Harry’s shirt. “You want to keep it on?”
Harry nodded weakly, pulling the collar of his shirt over his nose and nuzzling down into it.
“Okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. You can keep wearing it.” Louis climbed into bed beside Harry, pulling the boy into his arms and pressing a kiss to Harry’s curls. “I love you so much, Hazza. You’ll always be my favorite little fangirl,” he murmured softly.