Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/722808.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Fluff_and_Smut, Incest, Step-Brothers, First_Kiss, First_Time, Hand
      Jobs, Blow_Jobs, Anal_Sex, all_the_good_stuff_;), innocent!harry
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-16 Words: 3953
****** Soap suds ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Or, what happens when Louis and Harry end up in the shower together
     (hint: it ends in sex)
Notes
     Based off a prompt on Tumblr:
     I was wondering if you could do a Larry one shot where Harry is like,
     14 and Louis' about 16 and they're step brothers and Harry goes to
     take a shower when their mom's at work and they skipped school or
     something, but he gets soap in his eyes and Louis has to help him.
See the end of the work for more notes
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love my step-brother. I mean, how can you not?
I swear he’s the cutest thing alive with his mop of curls that he never seems
to brush yet remains looking perfect anyway and his large green eyes that take
in everything around him with that innocent stare of his. It’s been a year and
a half since his mum married my dad, bringing her two children with her, and in
that all time he’s never been anything but sweet to me despite the feelings of
jealousy that must surely come along with seeing Anne treat me like her son
too, which is why I always try to be extra nice to him too. However, that
doesn’t mean I’m averse to using the power I hold over him as his older brother
for my own purposes – for example, playing dares. I’m not sure if it comes out
of a desire to please, impress or simply get along with me, but Harry never
seems to be able to refuse a dare that I set him, be it to yell embarrassing
things in public or touch a girl on the bus’ boob ‘by accident’ or even phone
into our school pretending to be my dad and tell them that we were both off ill
with the flu. And that’s why I’m currently sat downstairs eating chocolate
cereal in my boxers at 10 in the morning, having skived a day off school for no
other reason but that we can. Well, that and the fact that we have a physics
test later that I haven’t revised for. Mindless cartoons are playing on the TV
screen and Harry is off upstairs somewhere, so all in all it’s shaping up to be
a pretty relaxed morning provided Gemma doesn’t decide to come back home from
sixth form during her lunch break and catch us or something, which I’m sure is
a highly unlikely prospect.
*
Finishing off my breakfast and quickly washing up the bowl so as not to leave
any incriminating evidence for my parents to discover this evening, I decide
that the novelty of not brushing my teeth has already worn off much faster than
it used to when I was 10 and so head up to the bathroom, only to find the door
locked. I can tell from the rather brilliant singing emanating through the door
that Harry is in there and so bang on the door to get his attention, hoping
that the sudden knocking won’t scare him so much that he slips over in the
shower and knows himself unconscious or something. Thankfully that doesn’t seem
to have happened for he calls out over the noise of rushing water in reply to
my banging.
“What is it?” For a moment I pause, unsure whether or not I can ask to go in
when he’s taking a shower, but then again it’s not like Harry’s really big on
boundaries so I ask away.
“Can I come in and brush my teeth mate?” I hear him sigh in mild exasperation
before crying out ‘all right then’; I turn the bathroom door handle (we don’t
have an actual lock because apparently it’s a ‘fire hazard’ so instead everyone
just tends to slam the door shut when they’re using the room) and make my way
towards the sink, deliberately not looking over at where my step-brother is
still washing himself through the clear glass of the shower door.
*
“Morning!” he calls over the sound of rushing water, and I grin at his childish
mannerisms that he still hasn’t quite grown out of and call a greeting back
before turning on the tap and beginning to brush my teeth. I’m rinsing out my
mouth with tap water when the cry comes from behind me.
“Ow!” Normally I’d think nothing of it and presume that Harry had just bashed
his elbow against the glass or something, but this time he sounds genuinely
anguished and without thinking I spin around to see what’s wrong. “Ow, ow, ow!”
continues Harry, who’s in obvious pain, as I realise from the way his hands are
stretched out in front of him to search for his flannel and his eyes are
squeezed tight shut that he must have got soap in them. Hardly a life
threatening situation, but one that I know full well hurts like crazy and that
appears to have rendered him almost useless, which is probably why I do
something as ridiculously overdramatic as quickly marching over there, pulling
the shower door and stepping in under the water with him to help. He jumps a
little at the slight crash of the door but I reach a hand out to steady him and
in doing so edge him back under the flow of the water.
“Hold still,” I tell him gently, reaching for the flannel on the floor of the
shower, then straightening back up to rinse the soap out of it.
*
He grunts a little at the pain that he’s still feeling and I quickly begin to
clean the soap out of his eyes as briskly as I can without hurting him. The
clinging wetness of my boxers is alerting me to the abnormality of the
situation and I want to get it over and done with as soon as possible so as to
make my escape, but at the same time there’s no way I can be anything but
gentle with my adorable step-brother! Once all the soap is gone from his eyes
and he’s blinked them a few times to readjust them to normal vision, Harry
gives me an odd, bloodshot stare that appears to be a mixture of gratitude,
surprise and something else – a hunger almost, although it’s far too innocently
for that. His green irises scan my face as though searching for something,
whereas his lips are a strangely bright shade of pink like he’s been licking
them too much, droplets of water from the shower beading on them and
occasionally dropping down to the tiled floor with a barely audible ‘plop’. His
hair is plastered to his head yet still retains its curly energy, and his
usually pale skin is flushed from the events of the past few minutes. He looks
almost… beautiful. I don’t know what it is that comes over me just then, but
suddenly his lips look so tempting that there’s nothing else I can do except
lean forwards and press them against my own in an embrace that’s tentative yet
which sends a jolt of undeniable electricity down my spine. Pulling away
immediately, I expect Harry to have a look of fear or disgust on his face but
instead there’s one of pure surprise and confusion. He remains silent, though,
just standing there a little dazed while I attempt to explain what the hell I
just did.
*
“Oh God, I just – I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t, I mean…” If I’m honest it’s
almost a relief when Harry steps forwards to resume the kiss because I honestly
have no idea where else to go from there and actions are an awful lot easier
than explanations. All thoughts fly from my mind, leaving it totally blank,
ready to be filled with new sensations that come with the feeling of Harry’s
lips against mine, his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips and then
dipping within my mouth when I let him, the careful, delicate way he explores
my mouth. There are so many things that my normal, rational, sensible mind
would be able to find wrong with this scenario (not least that it’s my own
fucking stepbrother who’s doing this all too me) but the deep red of lust is
spilling over my thoughts, rendering them obsolete as I take control of the
kiss and allow it to change directions. No longer is the embrace hesitant and
uncertain; I practically lunge at Harry in order to feel more, to taste more,
to know more of the boy who I’ve known for over a year and yet who only now it
seems am I truly starting to discover. If he wasn’t enjoying this as much as I
am then I would, of course, pull away immediately, but he’s responding to my
moves with equal passion and conviction that tells me this is causing him
pleasure too, although he lets me dominate right from the off. I like it, the
feeling of power that comes from being able to suck all the air from his lungs
only to pull away and nibble along the silky-smooth skin of his jawline so he’s
putty in my hands. Then my mouth begins to move down along the vein in his neck
that I know from tickle fights is a particularly sensitive area of his: my
teeth bite down, only for the bruises they make to be flicked over by my
soothing tongue while my lips press kisses to every patch of skin that I can
reach.
*
Harry is, I notice, biting his lip to hold back a groan that he’s clearly
desperate to let out and which falls from his lips eventually when I make my
way down to his prominent collar bones and suck a deep purple love bite into
one of them for reasons I’m not quite sure of myself.
“God Lou!” he mutters under his breath, not intending for me to hear, but I
grin against his skin and pull away to kiss him again, hard. It’s not the only
thing that’s hard, as I realise when I press my body closer to his and feel an
unexpected bump between us that I soon realise must be Harry’s rapidly growing
erection – he’s stiff already and seems embarrassed of it, hiding his blushing
face into his shoulder in shame.
“Hey, don’t worry,” I tell him, pressing a kiss to his wet forehead before an
idea suddenly comes to me. It’s wrong, it’s dirty, but it’s also fucking hot
and I somehow can’t seem to stop myself from making the offer before it’s
already done. “Do you want me to help out with that?” For a moment he looks
confused as he tries to work out the meaning behind my euphemism, but then his
eyes widen when he finally understands and I wonder if I’ve taken it too far. I
move to pull away from how I’m hugging him close against the glass of the door,
but he wraps his arms around me tighter as though he doesn’t want to let me go,
which is both comforting and terrifying at the same time.
*
When he finally speaks, there’s a hint of trepidation in his voice as he
vocalises the as yet unexplored territory between us.
“Yes! I mean, could you, please, er… help me out?” I can’t stop the side smile
that spreads over my face at that – less than half an hour ago if you’d told me
I’d be pleased to hear my stepbrother ask me to give him a handjob then I’d
have told you to fuck right off, but right now it feels like the best news I’ve
heard all day although I’m still not sure why. Without a word I kiss him again:
a long, slow, passionate embrace that gives me plenty of time to manoeuvre my
hand in between our two nearly naked bodies and grasp Harry’s length, loving
how he gasps against my lips when I do so. The shower is still falling on us
like tropical rainfall, and the steam it’s creating prevents me from being able
to see his length but I can feel it alright. It seems to be about 6 or 7 inches
long, which isn’t bad at all considering he’s not fully developed yet, and the
length increased as I slightly awkwardly stroke him to full hardness, the angle
of my hand uncomfortable but the thought of what I’m doing undeniably arousing.
Harry is no longer trying to hold back his moans of pleasure and they drip from
his mouth like the droplets of water from the shower that I taste every time I
kiss him – the water, that is, not the moans, although they have their own
taste which resembles something sweet and totally irresistible. I’m still
pumping his dick but it’s not enough, I’m desperate for more than a quick
fumbled handjob right now.
*
“I’m going to suck you off now,” I whisper against his lips before I even have
time to think about what the implications behind my words are. Harry gasps and
I feel his dick twitch in my hand, the idea of me on my knees with his cock in
my mouth clearly as much of a turn on for him as it is for me. It’s wrong, I
know that, but the line between doing what’s right and doing what’s pleasurable
appears to have faded into non-existence as I lick a long line down his chest
and taste the staleness of the water mixed with the salt of his sweat. When I
reach his snail trail of hair I pause to reposition myself so I’m knelt more
comfortably on the tiled floor, his length practically in my face already. I
should probably ask something like ‘are you sure?’, but I’m way too horny for
that right now so instead I simply set about to business by licking a stripe up
the underside of his cock, following the line of the vein. I’m pretty sure this
is his first time ever, so I want to make everything as pleasurable for him as
possible so that he’ll want to do this with… other people again. After pressing
a few teasing kisses to the head of his member, I finally wrap my lips around
his girth and duck my head down to engulf some of it in the warm heat of my
mouth, causing Harry to squeal in a way I’m totally going to tease him about
mercilessly later. His hands flail around helplessly for a little while I bob
my head up and down, my tongue flicking across his shaft whenever possible,
before settling in my short brown hair, his fingers tangling amongst the roots
but never being forceful, just constantly present. Knowing all too well that
there’s no way he will ever dare to fuck my face like I hate to admit I sort of
desire, I make the movement of my head more vigorous so that his length fills
my mouth and throat until tears spring to my eyes and I can barely breathe.
It’s perfection.
*
The hand that’s buried in my wet hair suddenly tugs a little at my short locks,
not hard enough to hurt but enough to make me pull off immediately, worried
I’ve done something wrong - well, something other than giving my own step-
brother a blowjob that is.
“Are you ok, Harry?” I pant, out of breath from having had his cock filling my
throat, but he shakes his head with a shaky groan.
“Yeah, yeah, I was just gonna cum…” Frowning, I make to get to my feet only to
have two ridiculously large, pale hands gently holding my shoulder. “I, I want
you to…” he swallows, his voice lowering a little in embarrassment. “To fuck
me.” I gasp - although I sort of knew it was coming from the blush that spread
up his cheeks, it’s still a shock and (though I hate to admit it) a turn on to
hear the words actually fall from his mouth. I can’t deny that it sounds like
an attractive prospect: my hips against his; thrusting in and out of him; him
screaming my name as he reaches the height of his pleasure. However after so
long of trying to clear my mind of any coherent thoughts, the doubts are
beginning to seep through like damp behind a freshly painted wall. I honestly
can’t believe what I’ve just done or how much pleasure it gave me – my own
stepbrother was about to cum in my mouth for Christ’s sake! Eventually my mouth
catches up with my frantic thoughts, finally voicing my inner inhibitions.
“B-but, Harry, we can’t! We’re brothers… It’s wrong!”
*
For a second there was a look of disappointment on his face – a heartbreaking
stare that made it look like I’d just stomped on his puppy or some such heinous
crime – before it was replaced by an incredulous, almost mocking half-grin.
“Louis, you just sucked me off in a shower – I think the whole idea of being
right and wrong went out of the window a long time ago!” I have to admit he
makes a good point: mightn’t we just as well finish what we’ve started now that
Harry is still so hard and I am painfully aware of the constrictions of my own
pants against my erection? There is no right and wrong any more, just pleasure
and the lack of it that I’ve instigated but am desperate to reverse. Sighing, I
decide that there must be worse ways to go to hell and reply.
“Wait here,” I tell him, but don’t even wait for him to nod in response before
getting to my feet and opening the shower door to make my way over to the
bathroom cupboard in the corner.
“Were are you - ?” he begins, but I’m no longer listening; instead I open the
cupboard door and begin rummaging around at the back for the lube that I
stashed there a few months ago. So I’ve only had actual sex once before, and
that time me and the guy who’d been chatting me up all evening fucked in a
stranger’s bedroom at a party and made do with Vaseline, but I figure it’s
always better to be safe than sorry, right? I think of grabbing a condom, too,
but there’s no way me or Harry can have anything so instead I head back over to
the still-running shower where the younger boy is still waiting for me to
return.
*
“What’s that?” he asks naively when he sees the bottle in my hands, and his
innocence really shouldn’t be as much of a turn on for me as it definitely is.
“It’s lube, Hazza,” I explain to him, unscrewing the cap and giving it to him
to inspect. It’s nothing special – unscented, and the cheapest I could find
given that I’ve only got my job at the cafe up the road to fund my shopping –
and he quickly hands it back to me so that I can drop to my knees once more.
“Turn around, babe,” I tell him, then realise what I’ve just called him and
stop, worried about what he’ll think. Thankfully he just does as I asked, and
soon enough his gorgeous pale arse is in my face and I’m spreading his legs to
open him up to me. Easing apart his cheeks with my fingers, I get my first
glimpse of his virgin hole and wonder what it would be like to fuck him until
he can’t walk, then realise that’s probably what I’m going to end up doing.
Minus the ‘not being able to walk’ bit of course. I’m still honestly scared of
hurting him, after all. Despite this, I still prep him too quickly, the lube
washing off my fingers as soon as I apply it and my digits causing more pain
that pleasure it seems at times. When I begin to scissor him, Harry screams in
real pain, and I have to pepper the skin of his thighs with kisses and allow
him to grip my spare hand until he almost cuts off the circulation in it before
he allows me to continue. Only when I’m attempting to add a third slicked up
finger do I accidentally change angle and without realising hit directly
against his prostate, causing him to scream again, only this time in pure
pleasure. Realising the effect it has on him, I jab against the ball of nerves
over and over until he’s desperately begging for more.
*
“God please, Lou, need you inside me right now, shit, shit, fuck me please!” No
further pleading is required as I’m as desperate as he is, so I quickly
straighten up and align myself with his hole. Before I push in, however, I
brush the hair that has fallen in his face back over his head and kiss him
softly, wanting him to know how much I love him both as a brother and more
before the real pain starts.
“Are you sure you want this Harry?” Everything seems to have been leading up to
this one moment when I will finally take his virginity once and for all, but
first I need to make sure it’s perfect. Thankfully Harry just nods frantically,
giving me full permission to buck my hips forwards and enter him carefully,
knowing that despite his eagerness this is going to hurt a lot more than he
realises. As predicted, Harry’s face screws up in pain when more than the tip
going past his tight rim of muscles, but I deliberately stop and refuse to move
until he nods to show that the pain has passed. After a few careful thrusts he
leans forwards and whispers the hottest thing I think I’ve ever heard into my
ear, which somehow seems to both be completely at odds with and yet totally fit
his unbroken, lazy drawl.
“I’m not a china doll, Lou, so just fuck me already.”
*
After that it’s a frenzied free for all as I gradually thrust in harder and
harder: his legs wrap around my waist so I’m holding him up against the
bathroom wall and I try to aim my hips to his prostate once again. It takes
longer than I’d care to admit to locate it, but since neither of us are exactly
experienced we’re both close to finishing anyway, and when I finally his
Harry’s prostate it seems to be enough to allow him release. His orgasm comes
as a string of ‘yes’s ‘Louis’s and ‘oh God’s that reverberate through the
bathroom and culminate with my own moans of pleasure until I’m certain the
neighbours can hear us. His hot, sticky sperm shoots across the glass wall of
the shower, painting it white, and the feeling of his arse muscles clenching
around me as he reaches his high is enough to send me over the edge too. I
release into him harder than I’ve ever cum before – never when I’ve masturbated
have I been so absorbed in my pleasure, or felt it sun through my body so I can
feel the tingling sensation from my head down to the tips of my toes. It’s
enough to send me dizzy with pleasure and it’s all I can do to pull out of him
and watch on dazed as my cum trickles down his thighs, then turn us around so
that his back is pressed against the opposite wall while the shower washes away
the evidence of our activities. Once it’s cleaned it all away, I reach up to
switch it off and stop us wasting even more water than we already have done,
but the small gesture seems to completely wipe me out and I collapse back
against his pale chest. We remain in that position together for a few minutes,
listening to the way our breathing and heart rates finally begin to level out,
until Harry finally breaks the silence.
“I wouldn’t mind you helping me out again if it’s always this good, Lou!” he
jokes in between breaths and I huff out a laugh, nodding and reach out of the
still open door for a towel to wrap around us both. I definitely wouldn’t mind
this happening again either.
End Notes
     I'm going to hell for this. Oh my God. What did I write??? On a side
     note, this was the first incest I ever wrote so I hope it's OK :)
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