relief next to me (by dolce_piccante on ao3)

7

i kept having thoughts of you working on a farm and oops...i might have just jerked off

Louis' phone vibrated on his bed five minutes later. He smiled at the photo on the screen and paused the program on his laptop, plucking his headphones out. His thumb brushed the screen to accept the call. He lifted it to his ear.

"Yes?"

"You can't send me texts like that and not expect a followup call. You just can't."

"Ooh, a followup," he said, crossing his ankles under the duvet. "Sounds like you're a doctor."

"Would you like that?" Harry's voice dropped, the tempo of his words lazy. "For me to play doctor with you?"

Louis smiled, his nose wrinkling, laughter bubbling in his stomach. He rubbed himself through his boxers and hummed, his body still tender to the touch.

"Dunno. Maybe," he said, his eyes lulling closed. He heard Harry breathe in, the shifting of fabric soft in the background. Louis' lips curved upwards. "Your voice sounds good through the phone."

Harry was silent for a moment, then swallowed audibly.

"Now I'm hard because of you."

Louis slid his laptop to the right side of the bed, easing himself onto his side.

"I'm honoured."

"I can hear it in your voice that you just came."

Louis laughed then, a breathy, soft sighed laugh that made Harry moan.

"How can you tell?"

Harry hummed, taking another slow, lazy breath in.

"You sound more relaxed. A bit...Airy, or something. Mellow."

He held the m in mellow just a few fractions of a second too long for normal speech. Louis' ears started to burn, a smile sliding over his face.

"Are you touching yourself?"

"I am."

He smiled wider, asking, "Do you like the way I sound?"

"I do."

Louis rubbed his big toes together, glancing at his closed bedroom door. He shut his laptop and placed it on his bedside table. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills could wait another day.

"Where are you right now?"

"In bed."

"Ready for sleep?"

"I was, until around five minutes ago."

"What are you wearing?"

Harry softly gasped, "Louis!" He clucked his tongue three times fast. "I'm outraged you'd ask a forward question like that with such filthy implications. That's so unlike you."

Louis chuckled and turned out the lamp on his bedside table.

"I'm just asking so I can set the scene in my mind." He settled on his back. "I'm a very visual thinker, you know."

"Nothing."

"Mmm. I thought you'd say that."

Harry made a sound through the phone that most definitely rang like a moan.

"Tell me what you thought about. With the farm. And...Me."

Louis thought of the best possible way to tease a good beg out of Harry over the phone. Then Harry murmured, "Please, Lou?"

"Fuck, you know that boyish shit does me in."

Louis smiled at the sound of his deep laughter. He stroked his fingers up the center of his chest, idly brushing over a nipple. He listened to Harry's choppy breathing for a few seconds, vignettes flashing through his heating brain. How to express that his visions of him as a farmer grew from the most boring of farm work to Harry naked and sweating on bales of hay in a candlelit barn?