#keep it hidden

Louis looks pensive. "And how would one go about that, I wonder..." Liam shakes his hips as best he can, wriggling his eyebrows for good measure. Louis guffaws, hiding his face in the bedsheets, shoulders shaking, but when he looks back up, the gleam in his eyes is familiar. "Alright," he says, shifting closer to Liam's body. He reaches out slowly, glancing up at Liam as if to dare him to flinch again, and gently pats Liam's crotch. "There there," he says, leaning close, "I'm sorry I hurt you." Liam bites his lip to keep the laughter in. "It's not convinced you mean it," he says, voice shaking from trying to keep his composure. "Of course it's not," Louis mumbles. "Pains in my arse, the both of you." "Not yet, but that could be arranged," Liam deadpans, because it'd be a shame not to, and Louis actually blushes, which is grand. Liam hopes he remembers all of this tomorrow. "Fine!" Louis says with an exaggerated sigh. He scoots even closer and presses a kiss to Liam's crotch, keeping still for a second before leaning back. "I'm sorry," he says again, cupping it with his palm. Liam chuckles, but somehow he doesn't really feel like laughing anymore. Louis doesn't move his hand away, and the heat from it seeps through Liam's jeans. "Better?" Louis asks, looking up at Liam with questioning eyes. He moves his hand a little, and Liam’s mouth is suddenly filled with saliva; the noise as he swallows seems deafening in the quiet of the room. "Better," he parrots, doing his best not to look down at Louis's hand. It's properly moving now, actual up and down strokes; Liam's definitely getting hard, and Louis doesn't seem bothered in the least. There's a faint flush spreading from his ears to his cheeks, though, matching the heat on Liam's face. Liam exhales, and it sounds a lot like a moan; the corner of Louis's lips twitches up, his fingers tightening for a beat. All Liam wants is to rut up into Louis's hand, chase the pressure of his fingers, but he doesn't know if that's what's expected of him. He does his best to lie still, and wait. "I think it likes me," Louis finally says, looking down at Liam's crotch. "Yeah," Liam says, because the truth is the only thing he can come up with right now. "Feels a little constricted though, no?" Liam nods, and holds his breath as Louis tugs on the button of his fly, sliding the zipper down with maddening slowness. He slips his fingers inside straight away, and fuck, they’re warm. He brushes his fingertips over Liam's pants, lingering over the head of his dick before sliding them all the way down to Liam's balls. "Fuck, please tell me you intend to go through with this," Liam blurts out, because he doesn't want to break that spell but he really doesn't want Louis to leave him hard and desperate, which knowing Louis is a very real, very worrying possibility.

But Louis only smiles, tugging Liam's jeans down his thighs. “Oh, I intend to,” he says, before pressing a kiss to the head of Liam’s dick, tongue peeking out and wetting the cotton of his pants.

“Okay, good,” Liam says, curling one fist around the bedsheets to avoid doing anything stupid, like reaching down and taking a hold of Louis's hair to keep him in place. His other hand is still clutching his beer, lukewarm and forgotten.

Louis’s lips ghost over Liam’s pants, his breath impossibly hot, until Liam's so desperate he's ready to fucking beg, if only it'll make Louis touch his dick.

He doesn't need to, however. In one smooth motion, Louis finally pulls Liam’s pants down, leaving them mid-thigh along with Liam’s jeans, effectively hampering Liam’s movements.

“So!” he says to Liam’s dick, tone bright and cheerful even though his cheeks are a flaming red. “I think we haven't been properly introduced. I'm the arse who slaps you every night.”

Liam's chuckle dies in his throat as Louis follows his words with a careful, tentative lick at the head of his dick, Louis's fingers gently curling around the base.

An eternity passes Liam by, each heartbeat a century, before Louis takes another, bolder, lick, the tip of his tongue teasing at the rim. “Spongy,” he muses, before scooting up and wrapping his lips around the head, swallowing Liam down without so much as a warning.

Liam keens, beer toppling off the bed, and he doesn't worry about not remembering this tomorrow anymore because he doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget the sight of Louis bending over his lap, cheeks flushed, cherry red lips stretched around Liam’s dick, his sweaty fringe hiding his eyes from view. He couldn't forget that even if he wanted to.

Louis's tongue is as cold as his lips are hot. His technique is dismal, but Liam couldn't care less; just the knowledge that Louis's doing this is enough to make his dick throb, his vision blur.

“Fuck, Lou, I'm…” he stammers, reaching down to push at Louis’s shoulder, whimpering when Louis lets his dick slip out of his mouth.

Louis looks positively delighted, but most of all he looks thoroughly fucked out, and Liam comes with a gasp, cheeks flushed from desire and embarrassment, the slight pressure of Louis’s fingers around the base of his cock both too little and too much to bear. When Louis strokes his thumb up Liam’s dick, Liam grabs his wrist. “Don't.”

Louis has never looked more smug in his entire life, Liam is sure of it. “I barely even touched you,” he crows, and Liam can’t argue against that.

He lets himself flop back down on the bed instead, grins up at the ceiling. He feels at peace, the way only one can when they've just come their brains out with someone they trust.

The bedsheets slip from under him, cotton brushing against his stomach as Louis wipes him clean. The thought makes something complicated twirl inside Liam’s body, something too complicated to think about now.

There's a brush of lips against his hip, then his pants and jeans are tugged back up, even though Louis doesn't bother pulling his fly shut. “Well this was fun,” Louis says, lying down next to him.

Liam can only laugh.

He reaches out, touches the back Louis’s hand, feels unexpected relief as Louis flips his hand over and lets Liam link their fingers together.

It’s only then he realizes how selfish he’s being. “Oh, d’you want me to…” he starts, trailing off awkwardly. Weird how saying “d’you want me to wank you off” still feels like a lot, even though Louis’s just blown him.

“Nah,” Louis says, even though when he cranes his neck to look down their bodies, Liam can see the obvious bulge in Louis’s sweatpants. “Wouldn't be much of an apology if I have you reciprocate.”

Liam thinks this makes no sense, but Louis’s stroking his thumb back and forth over the palm of Liam’s hand, and when Liam looks at him, he looks happy, as happy as Liam’s feeling right now, so he doesn't push it.

He lets himself drift off to sleep instead. He should change out of his clothes, probably take a shower, but it can wait. For now there's him, and Louis, and the quiet.

“Got an early flight,” El says, somehow evading Louis’s flailing foot. She trails her fingers back up Louis’s spine and into his sweaty hair, tugging at it and sending a pleasant jolt of electricity right down to Louis’s groin.

“Should’ve told me, I’d have come greet you…” Louis says without much feeling, too happy to be here, now, sleepy in the warm summer sun and secure in the love of the most perfect woman he’s ever known. He only wishes he could purr.

“That’d defeat the point of the surprise, though, wouldn’t it?” El points out, her voice suddenly closer.

Louis opens one eye, just a smidgen, but there’s nothing to see but the dazzling reflection of sunlight on his pool. El’s lips gently brush against Louis’s back, right between his shoulder blades, and he shivers as a strand of hair comes loose to tickle his side before El brushes it back behind her ear. He’s suddenly accutely aware of his nakedness, body humming with anticipation.

El trails her lips down, and Louis’s already getting a little hard, shifting against the cushion of his chaise longue and hissing low at the rough brush of the cotton against his cock.

“I missed you,” El says, voice heavy like syrup, and Louis can only moan his assent as El’s cool lips go down, down, down-

“Babe, I haven’t…” Louis gasps out when El presses a kiss right at the bottom of his spine.

Hot breath fans over his skin as El chuckles. “It’s okay,” she says, one hand playfully kneading at his arsecheek before letting go. He feels her straighten up, something in the shifting of the air, and the way her top flutters to the ground right in view of Louis’s opened eye two seconds later feels remarkably pointed.

He shifts again, fighting against the urge to turn around, and groans when El’s shorts come flying past his face, joining her top on the ground.

“Oops!”

Louis keeps his eye fixed on the edge of the pool, waiting for her underwear to follow, but instead he feels Eleanor carefully straddle him, two warm hands coming to press down on his shoulders, silky soft thighs framing his own as she kneels on the deck chair. She lies down over him, and Louis breathes out a heartfelt “fuck!” at the first touch of her soft naked breasts against his back, the faint tickle of her bush against the curve of his arse. He loves it when she doesn’t shave, loves how heady she smells, the way she tenses up when he tangles his fingers into it as he eats her out.

He knows he’s not supposed to move, definitely isn’t supposed to reach back, so he stiffles his whimpers into his folded arms and tells himself to be good.

Sometimes El teases him for hours, drives him mad with it until he’s ready to beg, but not today. Today she kisses his jaw, close enough for him to finally get a glimpse of her beautiful face, and whispers into his ear, “Turn around.”

She doesn’t properly get off him, hovering over him on hands and knees even as he awkwardly shuffles around, bracing her hands on either side of his head before lowering her body back onto his. It takes almost nothing at all, her guiding him with two fingers, for him to slip into her, gasping out at how warm and tight she feels.

“Missed you,” she says again, right against his mouth, her voice tense, before letting him kiss her.

He can’t move his legs, hips still braced by El’s knees as she slowly grinds over him, but he can move his arms, wraps them tight around her back, pressing her down against him. They’re both getting sweaty, from the sun and the exercise, and they might catch sunburn like idiots for having sex outside, but Louis doesn’t care.