"Get it out of me," Louis groans into his arm, shifting against the mattress in another futile search for relief. His thick cock just barely manages to rub against the sheets, a pearl of precome smearing his stomach. He yelps when the small movement causes the plug to shift inside of his sore arse, reminding him that the damn thing has been stretching him wide open for hours on end.
His forehead sticks to his arm through a sheen of sweat as he breathes through the sensation. His back is bowed tensely, belly pressed into the mattress and arse exposed to the cool air. Zayn is fully clothed where he's kneeling between the spread of Louis' legs. The two of them only touch where Zayn's nails drag up and down the backs of Louis' thighs, the scratch so deliberately light that it sends a palpable shiver through Louis's entire body.
They'd joked about it, of course, Zayn and Louis and Harry. They laughed about how bizarre it would be if Louis went through an entire day of promo and interviews with a butt plug wedged firmly inside of him. It was all just an amusing thought, really, until Zayn made it a challenge. He exhaled a stream of smoke from his cigarette and...
"You wouldn't do it, though, would you, Lou?"
The words lit a defiant spark inside of Louis and the next day over room service breakfast -- Zayn in the shower and Harry sitting naked across from him at the table with a strip of bacon hanging from his mouth -- Louis held up a sizeable red plug with raised eyebrows and a wicked smirk. Harry nearly sputtered his eggs through his nose.
The day went like this: three insufferably long interviews saw Louis shifting and twisting about in his spot like he was possessed by more than just an oversized sex toy. ("What has got into you?" Niall asked with an elbow to his ribs and Louis puffed out a wistful if you only knew, mate.) He spent the day lifting his arse off of sofas and leaning his weight onto his hip in an attempt to dodge any friction or pressure from the plug, tightening around it subconsciously as he forced smile after smile for the clueless reporters. It was a restless car ride back to the hotel -- the longest he's ever, ever experienced -- with Harry's hand splayed out promisingly on one thigh and Zayn's on the other.
And now, Louis' naked arse is raw and tight where it clenches helplessly around the plug, needing to be fucked in a way he hasn't felt in a while.
"Zayn," he whines, turning his head on his arm. His lashes flutter over his blue eyes and his lips part breathily around his words. "Get it out of me."
"Not until Harry's back, Lou," Zayn says, flattening his palms on Louis thighs and sliding them upwards to his round arse. He squeezes Louis' cheeks firmly apart so that his hole gapes a bit around the plug, his rim reddened and slick with lube. Louis squeaks and shudders bodily, burying his face back into his arm and clutching tightly at the sheets below him.
"M'going to die," Louis mumbles, barely audible. "M'going to die of lack of orgasm."
"You talk too much." Louis can hear him smirking. "I've half a mind to gag you," Zayn says airily, still holding Louis' ass open. He reaches his thumb towards the heat of Louis' opening and runs it over the puffy, glistening rim in a maddening circular motion. Louis feels him dip down to press an openmouthed kiss where his thumb is and hisses in response, hips arching into the bed.
"What did I miss?" Harry's low voice sounds amused. Louis can hear him chucking his shoes at the wall before padding over. The bed dips, Harry sitting by Louis' side and leaning down to press a kiss to his head.
"You missed Zayn being a prat who won't fuck me," Louis mumbles petulantly, tilting just enough to set one eye on Harry, seeing the fond, dopy grin on his face.
Harry runs a hand down Louis' arched back, dipping his fingers into the cleft of his arse and rubbing lightly. "Turn around, then. Let's see you."
Louis moans beneath his breath and flips slowly onto his back, careful of how he lands his arse onto the mattress. His hand curls on his lower stomach near his cock, resisting the urge to wrap a hand around himself.
