That's Me In The Spotlight {The Jesus Fic}.

Chapter 27

A siren outside woke Harry up early in the morning. It was startling to realise there was a whole world of other people out there. Things were happening: someone had accidentally set their kitchen on fire, or broken a leg, or had their shop robbed. This was the first morning of Harry's life that he wasn't a virgin, it felt monumental. Yet the world was turning as usual.

Of course, 'as usual' meant waking up with an erection that was difficult to ignore – and why try? Harry briefly pondered how much time they had before they had to go to the airport, and then he wondered if he could deal with the disappointment of his body not cooperating again... but he was hard and horny and Louis was so wonderfully beautiful, soft morning light and hair falling free with no product in it and his eyes closed in peaceful sleep and he was Harry's and gosh, Harry was so hard.

Louis had slept soundly through the noise, his body warm and still next to Harry's, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. Harry carefully untangled himself from Louis' loose embrace and levered himself off the bed, pausing for a moment to make sure Louis hadn't stirred before grabbing that little black bag and tiptoeing off to the bathroom.

Harry locked the door, not quite ready for Louis to walk in on him in such a compromising position. He reached in between his legs, then tried from behind and decided the latter was easier. Putting some lube on his fingers, he then set the bottle down on by the sink – apparently not steadily enough, as it toppled over and rolled on to the floor with a clatter. Harry froze, wet fingers mid-air, some lube dripping down onto the tiles... but all was quiet for another moment, Louis apparently sleeping through it all that morning.

Freshly determined, Harry poured out some more lube, deciding that less is more would never apply when it came to bum stuff. He placed one foot up on the edge of the bath and touched his hole. Sin, sin, sin, flashed through his mind, and he countered it with, shut up, shut up, shut up, and a few firm tugs of his cock. He concentrated on Louis, how sweet he looked when he slept, and the big four poster bed out there... and sex. Harry wasn't exactly turned on, he was hurrying too much and too antsy to see if it would work, but he wasn't at all anxious like he had been the night before.

His finger slid in easily. It didn't feel incredible like when Louis did it. It felt more like putting your finger inside something than having a finger inside you. It was all a bit too practical and striving, not just lying back and letting it happen. Either way it was happening, though, as Harry bit his lip and breathed through his nose as he pushed in a second finger. It felt incredibly tight for a bit and then he relaxed some - and then he thought about what Louis had said the night before; “I want to stretch around your cock.”

Harry quickly tried a third. When that too was fine, he pulled all three fingers out and wiped them off on a towel. He tugged on his lower lip as he assessed the bottle of lube, not sure exactly how much he'd need – he decided to add a bit more, awkwardly bending over and squirting it straight on. It was cold straight onto the skin like that, and Harry jumped a little.

He then unlocked the door again and resolutely went back out to the bed, bum cheeks slipping over each other as he walked.

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Louis woke up to Harry in bed behind him. He was running his hands over Louis' back, kissing his neck, not bothering to keep his erection from pressing into Louis' ass – which was fine, because the way Harry was touching him had already gotten Louis hard before he'd even opened his eyes.

Most times in the past, Harry had touched Louis with curiosity, like his hands were exploring each inch of him. This time, he was moving with sureness. He touched Louis in a way that showed he knew him, knew exactly when he would hit a hipbone or a nipple or a small scar. He knew the parts where his hands would fit perfectly. His fingers traced down Louis' spine like he had each bump memorised, kneaded into the muscles that he knew would make Louis melt further into the bed.