[completed]
"Please don't say anything."
"Lou-"
"Don't fucking speak," I snarled, my breath hitting the skin on his neck that I was glaring into. I took a deep breath, collected my thoughts and lapped my hands on each side of his waist, the sensatio...
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...
The following Monday was a bit of a revolution.
During first period I was constantly staring at the screen on my laptop and only managed to type in two words into my English essay (which I later deleted) before almost boring a hole in my palm with a pencil out of boredom. There was no way I could let my mind think about the literature during the antique Greek rather than contemplate over when I was going to see Harry next. When there was twenty minutes left of the class, I snuck my hands under the table to text him.
ME: Hey.
HARRY: Hi. Don't you have English?
ME: Yes but I'm thinking about other stuff.
HARRY: Me?
ME: Maybe...
HARRY: Sleep over at mine tonight? Liam is gonna hang out with some chick.
ME: Count on me.
After sliding my phone into my pocket I find myself staring into nothingness. The entire rest of the class consisted of my mind imagining how my night would end with Harry.
...
The night came fast and I popped over to Harry's at nine o'clock. Once I came inside he was laying in bed with his headphones plugged in with closed eyes. I chuckled at the sight before shaking his body to make him aware that I was there, he almost jumped up, took his earplugs out and paused the music.
"Sorry." I laughed. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's—It's okay. Come here."
Dropping my bad on the floor, I crawled into bed and laid down on my back next to him. He rolled closer, kissed my cheek and kneeled down next to me. While unbuttoning my pants he hummed on a song—presumingly the one he had previously been listening too. Despite my terrible knowledge in music, I was able to figure out that this was the melody to Mirrors by Justin Timberlake.
He was pulling down my fly when he started humming more efficiently, the falsetto occasionally shining through (which sounded really good, by the way). My boxers were yanked down with his teeth, and my flaccid length was gradually filling with blood as he grazed it with his long fingers. I loved the feeling of his characteristic rings rubbing against my veins and sensitive foreskin.
"Justin Timberlake, huh?" I breathed, as it seemed he wouldn't stop humming.
He looked me in the eye. "Can I put it on?"
I blinked. "The song?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "It sets the mood."
"Alright," I agreed.
He let go of me and spent three minutes connecting his phone to the little speaker on his nightstand and soon enough, the song started playing on very low volume. Once the voice started singing, Harry's hands were back to my cock. He began by licking the tip, soon sucking on the glans like a lollipop.
