Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1107697.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson, Zayn_Malik/Louis_Tomlinson
  Additional Tags:
      Watersports, Urination, Incest, Sibling_Incest, side_zarry_+_lirry_if_you
      squint, Kink_Meme, Age_Play, Piss_Play, sorry_for_all_these_tags
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-29 Words: 2149
****** If You're Ready For My Flow Hit Me ******
by cobainandstylinson
Summary
     Louis has a thing for his younger brother's piss and not even his
     boyfriend Zayn can sidetrack him anymore.
     ((title from let them thangs go by the lovely 2pac))
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
At fifteen, Louis prided himself an adult. He had hair on his dick and the
responsibility of caring for his younger brother.
And it wasn’t that she was a terrible mother, not by any means, but by the time
their father had left her with a full time occupation and two sons (with whom
she had always maintained an arms length relationship), anything compassionate
about her nature was replaced by definite disinterest. She supplied her family
with a handsome income and left her children to their own devices, and to
Louis, that more than sufficed.
 
Harry’s eyes were emerald like their father’s, and that’s how Louis justifies
the heat pooling low in his abdomen when Harry comes to him one night, the
outline of his penis oozing precome over the waistband of his Hanes. Louis
tells him it’s normal for boys his age and to stop crying, that it would go
away if he rubbed it up and down for a while- sure, like in woodshop. It takes
more explanation before Harry returns to his dormitory across the hall and
Louis is able to jerk himself off beneath the covers. That night, like others
to come, he falls asleep thumbing over the aftertaste of his daddy issues.
 
Within the next months, Harry finds out what sex is and seeks out Louis for
confirmation. Harry and his best friend kiss a lot then; whenever Niall’s mom
takes his brother out for the day or when Louis’ fooling round with Zayn
upstairs (It’s an established, sock-on-the-door-keep-out sort of rule between
the brothers).
 
On Wednesdays Harry has football and that’s when it all begins to escalate.
Louis waits parked in the loading zone for practice to end, sending Harry
gatorade-tongued and skipping to the car, grass stains adorning the caps of his
knees. This day in particular, invites an anxious side in Harry.
“Fancy cereal for dinner- ‘m feeling a bit lazy.” Louis says, ruffling the
early beginning of curls behind Harry’s ears.
Harry grunts and rolls his head from Louis’ reach.
“I mean, I could heat up that chicken from two nights ago if you want, huh?”
Harry doesn’t reply this time, legs quaking against the leather bench and his
gaze is peeled on the passing asphalt ahead.
“What’s eatin’ you, H?”
He squirms more, “Really need to wee.”
“Five minutes, you can hold it?”
He lets out a whine and gives his stomach an experimental prod that results in
further braying.
“Idiot.” Louis huffs.
Harry’s outwardly grasping his crotch now, his thumb desperate as it soothes
over the strained head of his cock.
“Think of the desert.” Louis manages only when Harry begins to cry because he’s
half-hard in a pair of basketball shorts that leave little to the imagination.
“Three minutes, love.”
“I can’t-”
“Haz-”
“Lou. Pull. Over.”
And Louis nearly runs the truck into a mailpost when Harry tugs his penis from
the confines of his trunks.
“Shit, shit-”
Their childhood home is a mile deep in the pine thickets and when the tires
break gravel, the indoor lights come on and the car squeals.
His grip on his cock is loose, the hold only purposeful in shielding his
tennies from piss.
“Uh- yeah.” he groans, leaning back in his torso so that his stream arches at a
height Louis can see. The splatter is consistent and thick in its downfall for
a solid minute
until he’s nearly satisfied and his prick seizes in spurts of thinned urine.
Louis’ a flagpole by the time Harry is shaking himself off (a habit learned
from spying on his brother through the shower curtain).
“Sorry.” Harry says, ducking back into his seat.
Louis clears his throat and with unsteady vitals, he maneuvers the car back
onto the main road.
 
It’s seven minutes until Louis’ sat beside his brother at the kitchen counter,
having taken an embarrassingly small vile of time to jerk himself off into the
bathroom wash basin.
Harry resumes his cheerful self between spoonfuls of Cap’n Crunch and
reiterates the fine anecdotes of his day and Louis can hardly see anything
beyond the kitten slurps as his brother laps at the milk yielded beneath the
remaining flakes.
 
Another eighteen hours restores normality about the two and their mother
ventures to Denmark on a trip that’ll send her home overworked and irritable by
the following Sunday.
They’re playing FIFA on a Thursday night when Zayn texts him.
yr mums still away, ya
Til sunday, why?
u alone
Nah, w/ haz.
go to yr rm 4 a sec.
 
He finds Zayn spread eagle across his mattress, tongue poking out the side of
his mouth as he tugs lazily at his cock.
“Fuck, Zee- how’d you get- Harry could’ve walked in-”
But Zayn has him on the bed then, pinning Louis down as his hips gyrate, hard
enough to sheen the front of Louis’ sweats in a layer of precome.
He’s half-hard when Zayn untucks him and becomes fully so when Zayn offers a
series of open-mouthed kisses to his tumescent head.
“Gonna let me fuck you, yeah?”
Louis manages an affirmative between breaths and nods to the tub of petroleum
jelly on his nightstand.
He devotes incredible attention to Louis’ ball sac as it lies full and heavy
atop his bed sheets as Zayn scissors him open.
When Louis mewls, cock flushed against his abdomen, Zayn removes his fingers
and sucks at them with obscene want. Louis stops him from slipping on a rubber
(they’re both undoubtedly clean and Zayn knows how much Louis loves creampie
output in the morning).
Zayn finishes first and brings Louis to orgasm with his tongue. He ends up
spending the night curled around Louis, breathing in his feathered fringe.
 
Their mum arrives in time for Harry’s twelfth birthday and restores order in
the three days that follow, leaving for China after that.
Niall breaks things off with Harry around that time, and sparks Louis’ idea for
a weekend getaway in the backwoods of Bristol.
 
“This alright?”
They’ve hiked a quarter mile along the main trail, and Harry’s gone flushed and
quiet (a tell-tale sign since infantry that he needs a rest).
Content with the remote clearing, he lets his pack to the ground and collapses
beside it. Louis settles down across from his brother and begins to pitch their
tent (it’s tiny and modest, the only one he was able to scrounge up from the
deep storage pits of the garage).
“Gotta piss, fuck.” Harry groans, stirring against the tent's water repellent
canvas and this time, he doesn't even bother turning away from his older
brother.
He fishes his prick from his basketball shorts and Louis is stricken with both
nostalgia and panic when he sees the thin wisps of pubic hair, coarse and
black, budding around the base of the younger's penis.
 
He must have been staring for a long- really long- time because when he
relocates reality, Harry's already tucked himself in and is rummaging around
the site for the beginnings of a firepit.
Sighing, Louis positions his hard-on along the inseam of his jeans where it’s
less blatant and assists Harry in “setting up camp.”
 
By nightfall, the two brothers are leaning fireside in a set of folding chairs,
sat as close as possible so that Harry’s limbs, becoming steadily lankier, are
bandaged against Louis’ thicker ones.
“I love you, Lou.” he says suddenly, when the flames have acquiesced to glowing
ember gems and the moon has risen to its full height.
“I love you, too.”
Harry draws in a shaky breath and holds it until Louis speaks again, setting in
free in a repressed sigh.
“What’s up, kid?”
“M’not a kid.” Harry replies. Louis laughs at reaches forward to comb a hand
through the curls decorated his brother’s fringe.
“I’m just taking the piss, hon- c’mon, tell me what’s up.”
Harry sighs again and faces him, eyes bleary and glazed over (Louis knows it’s
not from the fire).
“You’ll think ‘m sick.”
“Hare,” Louis sighs, tugging the younger into his lap, “you know I won’t.”
He cries first and foremost, whimpering into the collar of Louis’ flannel and
Louis pets his hair and rubs his back and whispers sweet nothings until the
sobs have waned to
mild sniffles.
“Ilikethingsthatpeopleshouldntlike.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Harry settles further into Louis’ lap, letting his head fall heavy on his
chest.
“Like what?”
There’s a lull in conversation for a moment until-
“Sexstuff.”
Louis’ cock is hardening up before he can regain even the most remote sense of
self control.
“Har-”
“I like when boys wee, okay? And I wanted Niall to do it on me but he wouldn’t
and he thought I was gross and weird because I reckon I am-”
“Harry.” Louis manages sternly, heaving his brother further down his leg
despite the wishes of pubescence.
Harry looks at him and Louis swears there’s fear in his eyes and he wants so
badly to kiss it away.
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, okay? Everyone has their kinks,
and that’s one of your’s and Niall should’ve been able to respect that.”
Harry is hesitant at first, but eventually shrugs, “Okay.”
“Let’s get to sleep, yeah?” Louis says, guiding Harry through the opening flap
in the tent. Already in joggers and long sleeves, they manage their way into
the sleeping bag they will be sharing.
Louis reckons this is when he’s best- curled up in the wake of Harry’s body
warmth as it consumes him entirely and as Harry’s eyelids droop further, he
knows nothing more beautiful than the curve of his lashes and lips and the way
in which his pupils widen as sleep draws nearer.
“My Louis.”
 
The boys carve their names into an oak using an abandoned pocket blade of their
father’s (or rather, Harry does, and Louis sits by watching) and they’re home
by elevenses.
Zayn comes by later and Louis fucks him harder than ever before, as if the
impact of each thrust could chase the thoughts of his baby brother arched
beneath him.
Harry cries in the next room over to the beat of the bedboard against the wall
behind his head and he nearly screams when his dick betrays him upon the sound
of his brother’s moans.
“Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes, fucking SHIT. Yeah, baby- take my cock.”
Louis isn’t entirely surprised to find Harry distant over the course of the
week and he spends the night at Zayn’s twice.
“Where’s Hazza?” he asks the first time Louis scales the gutter pipe running
down the side of his window.
“Home.”
“Alone?”
Louis nods.
“Naughty, naughty boy.”
 
Louis’ plan works for a week and two days.
It’s a Thursday night, and he’s left a bowl of Kraft macaroni on the counter
for Harry when he gets home from wherever he and his new mate happen to be
loitering.
Exhausted from a day of harsh academics and a bathroom quickie and overwhelming
guilt, Louis downs three pints and is sprawled across the living room sofa when
he realizes he might wet himself if he doesn’t move fast.
Straggling to the nearest bathroom, he undoes his flies and aims his penis as
best he can at the center of the toilet.
He’s halfway through when trainers scorn the wood flooring and Harry pushes his
way in next to Louis.
“Fuck, Harry! What-” Louis all but squawks, instinctively drawing his hand over
his balls, unable to stop the stream of urine falling heavy from the tip of his
dick.
“Can’t-make it-”
And Harry’s pissing on Louis. On his cock and hand and balls.
“Shit, arg- yeah.” Harry doesn’t even notice or bother to hold himself still
and Louis is hard faster than ever before and he lets out an involuntary groan.
“Oh.”
Harry’s eyes fall to his own length and follows it to where it leaks
unstoppably onto the head of Louis’ prick. He has come mussed deep in his pubic
hair (Liam’s doing) and when Louis sees it, there’s nothing holding him back.
He hoists Harry onto the sink countertop, pee still spewing from the younger’s
penis as it rises hard from his body.
“Lou.” he cries as their cocks are pushed together, wet and flushed.
Harry is embarrassed when he comes first and even more so by the fact that he’s
been milked just from Louis’ hand on his balls.
“Aw, yes- Harry.”
Louis tugs himself to orgasm, cock and stomach drenched in his little brother’s
come and in all honesty, he’s never felt better.
 
They don’t talk about it, or at least not right away.
Louis pulls Harry into the shower with him and once they’re clean (Harry
unreasonably hard again), he tucks him in beside him with the noodles.
“You alright?” he asks, ghosting his thin lips over Harry’s forehead.
Harry leans forward so that their foreheads are pressed together and Louis can
practically taste the powder cheese on his breath.
“Alright.”
End Notes
     I might write another oneshot like this one if you guys are
     interested. sorry if this is weird but i hope you liked it :)
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