Not Again? || l.s

f i v e

f i v e | please don't bite

Kiss me on the mouth and set me free 
Sing me like a choir 
I can be the subject of your dreams 
Your sickening desire 

~ 'bite' by troye sivan

ツ

Louis got a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in, and Harry got his hands gripped tightly on Louis' waist, fingers curling, nails trying to dig into flesh through his shirt. It hurt when Louis' lips meet his own. It's violent. His teeth pressed against his lips, and he made a sound of pain that Louis matched with one of frustration.

Harry was not even thinking —he's just reacting. He pushed his hands under Louis' shirt, sliding up his back, and Louis fisted a hand in his hair, tugging at it until Harry's lips parted obligingly. Louis' tongue pushed into his mouth, and all Harry could do was focus on remembering how to breathe as he tried to kiss back.

It's like Louis was trying to kiss him and hurt him, at the same time. Harry did the same, pulling back, tugging sharply at Louis' bottom lip with his teeth until Louis hissed in a sharp breath.

"I can't believe you pushed me," Louis said, as he did just that to Harry, pushing him back towards Harry's own bed, never fully breaking contact.

Harry stumbled backwards, tightly gripping the front of Louis' shirt. 

"You're such an —" he was cut off when Louis' lips moved to his neck, sucking harshly. "An ass," he got out, shaky, weak. "You're such an asshole."

Louis shoved him down onto the bed, and Harry went without fighting it. 

"I don't think anyone," Louis started, pausing only to climb on top of Harry, legs on either side of Harry's waist, "—pisses me off as much as you do."

Harry tried to take a breath, struggling with Louis' weight on top of him, but he liked it. He pulled Louis down so their chests were pressed together, and this time it's him pushing his tongue into Louis' mouth, curling around Louis', tasting Coke and something else, something infinitely sweeter. So sweet it's dizzying.

Louis leaned up, and Harry made an annoyed, upset sound until Louis tugged his shirt off and, oh, yeah, okay. That's —yeah. When he kissed Harry again, Harry was too busy running his nails over Louis back, liking the way he arched when they dig in too much, praying that he left red marks in their wake.

Louis' length pressed against his hip, and he groaned when Louis ground down against him, raggedly breathing into the crook of Harry's neck. He's still on fire, anger pulsing through him, but it's almost evenly matched with arousal, at this point.

"Tug my hair one more fucking time," Harry warned, while trying to feebly rut up against Louis, "and I swear—"

Louis did just that, and the sound Harry made was supposed to be annoyed, it was, only it isn't. It isn't at all. 

"What? Seems like you like it," Louis grunted against his skin.

He kept tugging at Harry's hair, but it didn't really hurt, exactly. It sent sharp pinpricks of arousal through him, and when Louis ground down just right against him, just enough friction between their bodies to steal the air from his lungs, he moaned. 

"Fuck you, Louis. Fuck you."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

Harry's eyes fell closed at that. Was that where this was going? Seemed to be. Did he want that? Maybe he'd say no, if Louis wasn't still rolling his hips down into Harry's, mouthing along his neck as he did. But he was, and all Harry could think about was finding relief from the red hot coil of tension in his stomach.