https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312642
this one is a part 2 to 'into another serotonin flow' so, enjoy!
~✰~
Harry's imagined his first year of university a hundred thousand different ways. He's pictured himself as the 4.0 student, as the theater kid, as the lazy dropout - even as the guy who surprises everyone and joins a frat. Somehow, though, he's never imagined he'd be cheering on the sidelines of the season's last football game, wearing star footballer Louis Tomlinson's too-short jersey and a flower crown. Halfway through October, that's exactly where he finds himself.
It's not only that, though, because somehow, some way, by some miracle of the universe - he's Louis Tomlinson's boyfriend . Jesus Christ, Harry actually lives in a world where he and Louis have been together for almost a full year. A whole year's passed since Harry accidentally found Louis' vibrator, and Louis accidentally found Harry's pain kink. Then, they'd accidentally found each other.
It's been a whirlwind since they got together, but Harry's never been happier. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to irreversibly fuck up, or to be too awkward and clumsy, but it doesn't happen. He just keeps getting happier .
Near the end of senior year, Louis got a full sports scholarship to play football at the same school Harry'd been secretly eyeing up for months. A few weeks later, Harry had gotten in on an arts scholarship to study photography, just like he'd always wanted. His portfolio, of course, ended up being filled with pictures of Louis. As per Mr. Corden's recommendation, the star photos were the ones he took of Louis that fateful day one year prior. At his portfolio review, the dean of the whole bloody university had commented on the "serene expression" he was able to achieve in his subject's eyes - Harry hasn't let Louis live that one down since.
In the stands, the crowd erupts into panicked shrieks. This is the final game of the season, and their university is tied with the opposing team with half a minute on the clock. It's been a nail-biter the whole way through; Harry's been cheering for absolute ages - so loud he knows he'll lose his voice tomorrow, but he doesn't care. Anything for his boy.
Louis has been incredible, as per usual - running like the wind and making goal after goal. He's practically carrying the team by himself, since the captain was injured near the beginning of the first quarter. Now, though, it's too close to call.
On the field, Louis races toward the goal as the seconds tick down. He just has to get close enough to make a hail-Mary kick, but a player from the other team is quickly gaining on him. He's a blur of red and white stripes, a flash of brunette hair, as he puts on a burst of speed and kicks the ball straight past the goalkeeper and into the net, right as the buzzer signifies the end of the game.
The crowd absolutely dissolves - the screams are fucking deafening, and the other players on the field start a dog-pile on top of Louis, who's buried in a chaotic mix of hugs and yells of joy. Harry jumps around, shrieking happily and hugging every stranger he can get his hands on. He knows his flower crown's halfway off his head - probably looks proper ridiculous - but self-consciousness is lost in a flood of, "That's my boyfriend!! His name is Louis!! Number 28 is my boyfriend!".
It's a nightmare trying to get both teams in order to shake hands without the crowd storming the field, but they eventually make it work. Harry barely catches a glimpse of Louis' grinning face through the mass of people on the way to the locker rooms, but they lock eyes long enough for Louis to blow him a kiss before he disappears behind the doors. It's bloody freezing outside, except Harry feels ridiculously warm. He knows he's the only one who gets to have the star football player in his bed tonight.
Harry bakes when he's excited. It's admittedly impractical in the best of times, and downright childish in the worst of times, but all he wants to do is bake celebratory cupcakes for his boyfriend while he waits for him to get home from the game. He and Louis share a comically small student flat, one that's barely big enough for the two of them, but it's home when they're there together.
Before Harry knows it, he's got the cupcakes already cooling in the windowsill and he's mixing the third cup of powdered sugar into the icing when he hears Louis' key in the lock. He's got the bowl of frosting on his hip, swaying as he stirs to the familiar beat of Shania Twain's You're Still The One.
It's like he can feel Louis crack a grin before he even hears him drop his bag at the door. A second later, and Louis' hands are snaking around Harry's waist, pulling him into a new, slower rhythm.
Harry smiles, heart skipping a few beats.
"Congratulations, you. Star of the whole bloody team," He murmurs, and Louis hums happily back. They're both content to leave it at that for now. Harry knows they'll talk about it later, after they reconnect - after they remind each other what home feels like.
His heart flutters in his chest as he continues to stir the icing, determined to make it as perfect as possible through the distractions. Louis, however, seems just as intent on distracting him. He flicks his tongue playfully over Harry's neck, then murmurs a low "Can I taste?" into his ear.
Harry tips his head to the side, grinning.
"I think you just did." Louis makes an interested sound, then bends his head to suck a mark into his skin. A shiver zips up Harry's spine and he inhales sharply, the bowl jostling in his grip.
Louis bites lightly at the mark. "Mm. I must not've gotten a proper lick in."
Harry's voice is hushed, breathy. "Didn't you?" Jesus, Louis is already getting him hot, just like he always does.
Louis cocks his head, considering. "Nope." His breath is hot and steady on Harry's neck for an electric second, then he closes the distance and licks a slow stripe down the length of his throat. Harry's cock twitches in his joggers, more than a little interested.
"Jesus -" He chokes out.
Louis laughs softly at his desperate reaction. "Much better."
Harry twists in his grip to look up at him. Louis is heart-stoppingly gorgeous, even when his fringe is still wet from his post-game shower and he's still got his grass-stained uniform on. Harry gives him a breathless smile.
"God - I probably taste like sweat and suncream."
Louis leans in and kisses lightly over his jawline again, almost curiously, then hums as he thinks.
"No. You're sweet. Like... Like sugar." With that, Louis presses his body closer and drapes himself over Harry, enveloping him in an all-consuming hug and a mess of kisses.
Harry laughs and shoves weakly at his shoulder. "Get off, you wanker."
Louis pulls back and winks at him like the fucking minx he is. "Tryin' to, love."
Then, he seems to notice the forgotten bowl in Harry's hands, and narrows his eyes curiously at it.
"Buttercream," Harry murmurs as Louis bends to sniff it. He experimentally dips his finger into the bowl and lifts it to his mouth, the white icing all shiny and glossy in the light. Harry watches, suddenly frozen and helpless, as Louis sucks his finger between his lips and noisily licks the icing off.
The sight is fucking sinful - and it brings back a flood of memories from that morning. Harry can't help it; his cock starts to thicken between his legs.
His thoughts are interrupted by the familiar sensation of Louis slipping his hand down the front of his briefs.
"Christ," He mutters, and Louis pushes him gently back against the cupboards.
"What's the matter, love?" He murmurs devilishly, shaping out the length of Harry's cock with his fingers. "You seem flustered."
Harry wills his heart to stop beating so fast, but it's hopeless. Good god, Louis Tomlinson is every single one of his wet dreams come to life. Lips are on his collarbones, biting lightly over his flushed skin because he knows that teeth drive Harry crazy. It's not like it'd be difficult to figure out - hell, he's got his hand on his cock, he can feel how hard he is from just these light touches - but it still makes Harry's head spin that these are things Louis just knows about him now, when only a year ago, Harry was pining over him from the back of the maths classroom.
He can feel Louis' smile against his skin, mischievous and knowing and so ridiculously Daddy that Harry can't help but gasp it out.
"Mm, Daddy."
Louis grins wider, then lifts his head to sloppily kiss his cheek. "That's my good boy." He scritches Harry's scalp lightly, and Harry practically purrs under his touch. "Without even being asked, hm? You're so good for me, baby."
Harry blushes, but the praise makes him even harder, even more desperate. "Daddy - please, I -"
Louis stops him with a look, because he knows how much Harry loves to beg, how much he loves to draw it out and work for it. Louis leans over and trails his finger through the bowl of icing again, gathering even more sugary sweet icing. He properly shows off this time, hollowing his cheeks and letting a little spit drip down his bottom lip as he licks his finger clean.
Harry moans brokenly in spite of himself, and Louis' finger falls from his lips with a wet pop. He smirks.
"What is it, love?"
Sometimes Harry skirts around it - preferring to stay demure and polite instead of saying what he's thinking, but not tonight. No, Harry's in no mood to hold off tonight. Not when Louis is so mindblowingly hot and here.
"Want your mouth, Daddy," He breathes. Louis looks vaguely unimpressed until Harry sheepishly adds a "please".
Harry hangs on Louis' every movement, from the way he folds his arms to the way he flicks his eyes hungrily up Harry's body. He pauses at Harry's crotch, at the place where his cock tents his joggers.
"You're desperate," Louis observes calmly, tucking a finger into Harry's waistband.
"Yeah," Harry breathes as he watches Louis' finger slide slowly against the light peach fuzz on his tummy. "Please," He whispers again. It echoes softly around the kitchen, blending into the mindless hum of the radio. Then he mumbles it again a few seconds later - "Please, Daddy." It keeps him grounded to beg like this, to remind himself that Louis will give him what he wants if he asks prettily enough.
"Please, please, Daddy." His voice is edging on proper desperation now, and he knows Louis can tell - it's how he knows it's okay to start teasing Harry even more relentlessly.
The corner of Louis' mouth quirks up a little, and he moves one hand to Harry's hip. "Okay? Not gonna come too quick, are you?"
Harry shakes his head wildly, aching to have Louis' hands on him.
"Good."
Another second passes, a moment of desperatedesperatedesperate , of Louis' fingers being so close but not close enough. Harry's in the middle of gasping out another pitiful " Please , Daddy" when Louis yanks his joggers and his briefs down to his knees.
"Oh - fuck, Daddy -" Harry gasps as the cold air raises goosebumps on his skin.
Louis smirks down at Harry's cock, pink and heavy against his hip. "Desperate boy," He murmurs, rubbing his thumb over Harry's hip.
"'M sorry. Can't help it, Daddy," Harry mumbles sheepishly, biting at his lip. He's nonsensical by this point, babbling and begging.
Louis shushes him gently, hands traveling up to touch Harry's cheek softly.
"My mouth, hm?" Louis asks, and a shiver zips up Harry's spine when he remembers how bloody good it feels to get off with Louis' lips around him.
'Course, he always likes feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off, it's fucking otherworldly. Desperate's not really the word at that point - it's helpless . Like... like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn't be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.
Louis grinds roughly up against him, finally showing him how hard he is, too. Blood rushes to Harry's crotch, getting him even hotter and harder.
"Daddy - oh, fuck -" Harry gasps, and Louis seems to take pity on him because he steps back with his arms folded. He takes a second to drink Harry in, to gaze over every part of him - and really, Harry should feel naked and vulnerable, but he doesn't. All he can think about is not coming just from Louis' eyes on him.
Louis tips his head in the direction of the stairs. "Bedroom."
Harry swallows thickly, then makes to put the bowl of icing on the counter, but Louis stops him with a gentle hand on his arm. Harry looks at him questioningly. "Take it with you."
Two minutes later and Harry's completely naked on their bed, with one wrist already cuffed to the headboard. He's got his other arm tossed over his eyes, partly because he likes not knowing what's coming next, but mostly because he knows he'll come on the spot if he sees Louis naked without adequately preparing himself first.
He jumps a little as the mattress squeaks suddenly, then Louis' fingers are gently pulling his arm away from his eyes.
"Baby," He murmurs, brushing curls out of Harry's eyes. It's soft and sweet like this, even when Harry's half-tied to a headboard. Louis always takes care of him. Always.
"Good?" He whispers, and Harry nods, catching his bottom lip between his teeth because they've got thin walls and he knows he gets whiny when he's close.
Louis glances at the wall, too; they don't have to strain their ears to hear the voices on the other side. He thinks for a second, then smirks at the icing bowl and disappears from view. Harry's confused for a moment, but Louis comes back a moment later with a finger full of icing.
"Taste?" He murmurs, and Harry opens obediently.
Jesus, he couldn't dream of a more perfect night. Louis' just won the season-ending football game, Harry's about to get blown by the love of his life, and his icing recipe's turned out perfect. This is fucking ridiculous, is what it is - bloody ridiculous that Harry has Louis in his kitchen, in his bed, in his life. If he wasn't so turned on, he'd burst into a fit of happy giggles.
Instead, he slowly swirls his tongue around Louis' finger and licks it clean of sugar. Then Louis reaches between their bodies to cup his cock, and Harry has to forcefully remind his brain how to work again.
"More?" He asks, and Louis gives him a stern look. "Please?" He adds hurriedly. Louis lowers his head to bite lightly at Harry's nipple, and Harry gasps as his cock twitches between his legs, tumbling too quickly toward the edge.
"Um - Daddy -" He tries to warn Louis because he's so hard it aches, so embarrassingly close given how little Louis has actually touched him. "Please - fuck, please just -- your mouth," He rambles as quietly as he can, and Louis kisses softly at the center of his chest.
"Shh, baby. Slow down." The thing is, Harry can't slow down - not when Louis is naked and on top of him like this, not even when Harry's half-bound to the headboard. His wrist twitches in its restraint, unbound hand lying uselessly by his side.
As always, though, Louis reads him like an open book; in one move, he expertly brings Harry's other hand up to the headboard and ties it carefully with the other restraint.
"Better?" He asks, eyes concerned, and Harry nods rapidly. The pressure's already ebbing away, slowly but surely; the desperation to come right now is bleeding blissfully into a "I'll come when you want me to".
Louis sits up on Harry's hips, straddling him and smiling at him warmly. "Beautiful, love." He brushes his hand softly against Harry's forehead, trailing close to the sweat beading at his hairline. "Relax, sweetie. I'll give you what you want now. Won't make you beg anymore. Just keep it down, yeah?"
Louis' barely even done speaking when Harry sighs out another "Please, Daddy," - it's dreamy and calm this time as he slips into his headspace.
Louis laughs softly. "Eager, aren't you?" Harry nods sleepily and watches as Louis finally bends to take his cock into his mouth.
It's beyond words, like it always is. Louis' mouth is warm and insistent as he tongues over the head of Harry's cock, taking him deeper. The breath leaves Harry's lungs in an instant, replaced by pitiful cries and whimpers of "Daddy".
Harry's fists ball up in his restraints, arms shaking above his head. He loses track of time, of how long Louis' tongue is on him; all he can do is focus on holding on until Louis says otherwise. He's biting at his bottom lip so hard he's practically drawing blood, trying as hard as he can to avoid making too much noise for the neighbors across the wall.
It's fruitless when Louis bobs his head and Harry's cock hits the back of his throat in just the right way. "God - Daddy - Daddy --" Harry cries out, and Louis pulls off immediately. His eyes are kind, concerned - even when he's Daddy, Louis never gets truly angry with Harry.
He thumbs lightly over Harry's nipple, and Harry whines and turns his face into the pillow to keep from moaning outright.
"Told you to stay quiet, didn't I?" Louis' voice is low and serious, but there's always an edge of softness to his tone.
Harry nods, embarrassed, into the pillow. "Sorry, Daddy."
Louis bends to drop a kiss to his ribcage. "S'alright, angel. Daddy'll help you, hm?" Harry nods again, sniffing. "Open?"
He obediently opens his mouth and is met with another finger full of sweet icing, the sugar washing pleasantly over his tongue. He immediately starts to lick it off but falters when Louis bends to start tonguing over the head of his cock again.
Louis hums in warning when Harry stops licking, and Harry has to force his attention back to sucking Louis' finger clean. As if he wasn't ridiculously close to coming before, the sensation of sucking Louis' finger while Louis has his cock in his mouth is, like, ungodly. It heightens everything, makes everything so much better. Harry feels used in the best possible way, because all he ever wants to do is make Louis happy - make his Daddy feel good. This is the closest he can get to it at the moment - sucking Louis' finger like he'd take his cock - and it's fucking delicious.
It keeps him quiet for a bit, but then Harry swirls his tongue around the base of Louis' finger right as Louis licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, just the way Harry likes. Harry can't help it - a broken whimper escapes his lips, but it's muffled by Louis' finger in his mouth. Louis pulls off to whisper a "good boy," before swallowing Harry down again.
A few minutes later, Harry's mellow relaxation has turned back into white-knuckled desperation. His brain is on a constant string of "please let me come, Daddy, please let me come", but he can't say much when he's still so focused on sucking Louis' finger.
Louis can tell he's close in the way his hips twitch, in the way his hands shake in his restraints, in the way the broken whines can hardly stay confined to the back of his throat. He pulls off for a second, just long enough to whisper, "Let go, baby". Then he takes him deeper one last time, so deep Harry's mouth actually falls open with pleasure, and the fire burning low in Harry's belly finally bursts into an explosion.
Louis pulls off at the last possible second and lets Harry come untouched because he knows Harry gets off on his own desperation, at the way he can come without even trying. Harry shivers as it happens, but he's blissfully quiet save for a tiny whimpered "Daddy ". His body shudders as he pours hot onto his tummy, messy and sticky.
Louis' voice is in his ear, so soft and gentle, soothing him through the desperation until it bleeds into white-hot pleasure.
"So good, angel. That's it, you're so good for Daddy. So beautiful."
It takes absolute ages for Harry to come back to himself when it's like this - when he's so far gone that he practically whites out with how good it feels. All he can do is focus on the feeling of Louis petting his hair until he gets back down to earth.
"Daddy," He mumbles, when the heaviness returns to his limbs.
Louis presses a kiss to his temple. "Hi, baby," He murmurs, sweet and quiet. Harry fumbles a little, groping for Louis' cock to help him get off, but his brow furrows when his fingers trail through the sticky warmth over Louis' belly.
"But -" Harry protests, because he started this whole thing with the intention of making Louis feel good after his big win, and now Louis has had to get himself off alone.
Louis hushes him. "Don't worry, love."
Harry makes a crestfallen sound and Louis wraps an arm around his waist, pulls him closer. "In the morning, baby."
He kisses the back of Harry's neck, tangling their sweaty legs together under the sheets. "I'm here now."
Harry nuzzles back against him, letting himself fall into the warmth and security of Louis' embrace. "Sleepy," He mumbles, because the exhaustion finally hits him once it's quiet. He can't imagine how Louis must feel, with a grueling football match under his belt.
"Me, too," Louis murmurs back. He presses a kiss to Harry's shoulder blade, soft and sweet.
Harry coos happily. "Love you, Lou."
He can feel Louis' smile against his back. "Love you, too, angel. Always."