Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/907972.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Underage_Kissing, Blow_Jobs, Frottage, Grinding, Comeplay,
      Overstimulation, First_Time, Experimentation, Multiple_Orgasms,
      Masturbation, Finger_Sucking, Smut, Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex, Rimming,
      Fingerfucking, Hand_Jobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-01 Chapters: 1/? Words: 3211
****** crushcrushcrush ******
by lostinsanity
Summary
     At fourteen and twelve, Louis and Harry can only learn from each
     other.
Notes
     at first, i had no idea where i was going with this. but as i
     continued, i soon realized i knew where i was going -- straight to
     hell.
     special thanks to my cupcake holly for beta'ing and to yvonne,
     underage expert extraordinaire, for answering any questions and
     breaking the ice for my very first time writing this kind of thing!
See the end of the work for more notes
For thirteen and eleven, Louis and Harry were unbelievably close. With Louis
going into ninth grade and Harry heading for seventh, Louis’ friends constantly
taunted him about how it wasn’t cool for him to hang out with a little kid,
while Harry’s friends thought he was a god for being close to a high schooler.
The two boys had known each other for longer than they could remember, though.
Their prolonged friendship made them totally oblivious to the comments and only
tuned in to each other.
The two spent nearly all their time together. When not at Louis’ house, they
were at Harry’s; of course, it wasn’t a struggle to get to and from because
they lived down the street from each other. Days were spent watching cartoons
and playing COD and nights were spent giggling beneath the covers over comic
books and bad jokes. Even at thirteen, with giggles at the word ‘boobs’ and
whispers behind cupped hands, Louis still found himself much like a middle
school girl with a crush when he was around his best friend.
In fact, it was one of those flashlight-lit pillow fort days that led to Louis
realizing that he was like a middle school girl with a crush. A big, fat,
hopeless crush.  And not just a big, fat, hopeless crush on anyone. It was a
big, fat, hopeless crush on Harry. Harry, his best friend. It really began when
Harry began to strip off his jeans and tee and just crawled into the fort in
his boxer-briefs--not a rare occurrence, they had seen each other nude loads of
times--but Louis was just beginning to notice how the soft curve of Harry’s
small bum and that little bit of pudge on his soft tummy made Louis bite his
lip and avert his gaze.
From then on it was like tiptoeing around broken glass. Louis knew for a fact
that, then thirteen, he was a horny teenager, but Harry, at eleven, was barely
out of the “cooties” phase, and he didn’t want to spoil his innocence. Not his
best friend’s innocence. So, as the pool parties and sleepovers continued,
Louis quietly slipped away to the bathroom and wanked until he came, moaning
loudly to the thought of his best friend bouncing on his cock while Harry was,
in reality, splashing innocently just outside or sleeping peacefully in the
next room.
It became so intense that Louis was soon waking up in bed, usually next to
Harry, with vivid memories of a dream of Harry’s plump, pink lips stretched
over his dick and a damp sensation in his pants. Stealing a pair of Harry’s
boxers was never a problem, but having to wrap up his soiled ones in a plastic
bag and tuck it into his backpack was always a trouble when it occurred at four
in the morning.
But, either way, Louis managed to keep his secret to himself without even a
peep to Harry. Despite all the times Anne had caught him making googly eyes at
her son as he bent over to pick something up, his bum on display, she had never
said anything, and neither had Jay. So Louis was in the clear. He’d kept it
secret for a year until one day Harry snuck up on him and made his whole world
come crashing down.
They’re at Louis’ house, having come home after school to find a note on the
counter from Jay that she’s working late. The two do the usual business, Louis
makes them a snack and they go up to Louis’ room to play video games.
“I have a question,” Harry asks, eyes fixated to the screen as his fingers fly
over the PS3 controller, pulling the triggers to shoot the heads off of virtual
zombies. Louis isn’t paying much attention to him, what with being in the
middle of a battle on the game, so he just grunts in response, signaling Harry
to just ask.
“Alright. You aren’t going to make fun of me, are you?” he questions as he
pauses the game.
And suddenly Louis knows it’s serious, because Harry never pauses the game.
Never. And it’s absolutely unheard of for him to pause it when he’s in the
middle of a battle. Even if he’s about to piss his pants.
“You know I’d never,” Louis assures Harry, putting the controller down and
repositioning himself on the rug criss-cross applesauce to face Harry. “Just
come out and ask me, come on. It can’t be that bad.”
Harry looks down, fiddling with his thumbs and pulling his thin legs into his
chest. “Okay, well. You know Julian in my class?” Louis nods, eyes intent on
Harry’s lips, and he tries desperately to push down that familiar feeling that
grows deep in his gut. “We were talking last week and he told me that...” He
stops, averting his gaze before looking up at Louis sheepishly. “He said that
if I see a pretty girl and I feel... you know, different…then I need to run
because I’m going to turn to stone and I’ll be a statue forever.”  
Louis feels his throat get tight, but at the same time he chuckles lowly. “He
doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he says quickly, willing this
conversation to end so he can get Harry back into the game and relieve himself
from the tightness in his jeans in the bathroom, where Harry will have no idea
what’s going on.
But Harry doesn’t just drop the subject. “Well, what’s the truth then?” he
questions, and Louis can hear the innocence in his voice, and for some reason
that just goes straight to his cock and his breath catches.
“Uh,” Louis begins, not knowing how to even explain. “Well. When you see
something that you really like, like a pretty girl or--” if you’re Louis
Tomlinson, your best friend’s arse, “--or uh, yeah, then something sort of
happens to you, and I know they’ve taught you this in one of your classes,
because I know they taught it to me...” Louis sputters and struggles to find a
way to say it so that he doesn’t sound like a total idiot. He’s pretty sure
that Harry knows the concept of erections and that he’s gotten some before--
he’s twelve now, new to puberty and his body is all out of whack--but he doubts
that Harry’s ever really thought about what they mean or that he’s ever
masturbated. Louis just knows Harry that way, and he’s always been innocent.
He turns. Harry’s still looking up at him with huge, innocent green eyes,
twinkling with curiosity, and Louis knows he has to keep going further.
“Your uh,” he wrings his hands, “your willy starts to get hard. And that
doesn’t mean all of you is going to turn to stone, you’re fine. Except the
hardness doesn’t go away unless you make it go away or if you just ignore it.
You aren’t going to turn to stone, though. Just your willy. And it’ll go back
to normal, so don’t worry.”
Harry nods, turning back to the television, and for a moment Louis lets out a
relieved breath, thinking he’s done with the subject. But the relief is short-
lived when Harry mumbles, “My willy has gotten hard before. But I just left it
and it went away. I was scared because I thought all of me was going to turn to
stone. It’s happened a bunch of times.”
Louis closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath through his nose. He knows
Harry’s waiting for a response, so he says, “See? Told you it was fine.”
Harry nods again, curtly, lips pressed. “Except it doesn’t happen when I look
at pretty girls.”
Louis makes a bit of a choked sound in his throat, and suddenly his cock begins
to hurt where it’s pushing hard against his jeans. He wills himself not to ask,
but his mouth doesn’t listen and he blurts out, “When does it happen?”
“Sometimes,” Harry begins, looking down at his lap as he says it, “it’s just
random. Sometimes I’ll be in school. Sometimes I’ll wake up and it’ll be hard
and it’ll feel really funny and it’ll hurt, so I just go back to sleep. And um,
sometimes...” He trails off, and Louis is peering at him curiously, waiting for
the rest of the sentence as his cock throbs in his jeans and hereally hopes
Harry’s about to say what Louis wants him to say.
“Sometimes?” Louis prompts and leans down over his lap so that Harry can’t see
the bulge in his pants.
“Sometimes when I see you,” Harry finishes quietly. Louis’ dick literally
twitches and he feels like he can’t breathe, but Harry keeps on talking.
“Sometimes when we change for sleepovers or swimming or something. And
sometimes when you wear those really tight jeans that outline your bum. Or
sometimes--sometimes when I’m asleep I wake up and you’re not next to me
anymore and there’s a light from the bathroom and I can hear you making noises
and--yeah.”
Louis can't breathe. He's been imagining Harry while pleasuring himself for
over a year now and suddenly, suddenly Harry is telling him that he's getting
hard at Louis getting himself off? He's sweating and his cock is throbbing and
he can't do anything about it because Harry's right there. Watching.
Watching.
“Louis, are you alright?” he asks softly, and his voice is just enough. Just
enough for Louis to push over the edge and start palming himself through his
jeans. He lets out a soft moan, his eyes falling shut, and Harry swallows
thickly beside him, his small bulge straining against his jeans as well.
Louis opens his eyes, keeping his hand on his cock through his jeans. Harry's
sitting there, pupils blown wide and lips parted, his curls falling perfectly
over his forehead and his hands resting on his knees, gripping them hard,
knuckles white. Louis doesn't really think it's fair to get himself off and
make Harry watch when it's obvious that it's wrecking the poor kid.
“Louis,” Harry whispers, and he begins to mimic Louis' movements, pressing his
hand down onto his crotch and gasping at the contact. Louis crawls over to him
as Harry whines, “Please, Lou. It hurts. You're older, you know what to do.
Please, please help.”
Louis' pants get impossibly, painfully tighter, and he reaches Harry, without a
word pulling him in and pressing their lips together. Harry pushes into the
kiss, his plump little lips fitting perfectly against Louis'. Louis sucks
Harry's lower lip into his mouth and Harry moans, climbing up onto Louis' lap
and settling down directly on Louis' throbbing cock.
“Do me a favour,” Louis gasps, lips brushing against Harry's softly. “Can
you... can you wiggle your bum a bit?”
Harry complies, grinding tentatively down onto Louis, and Louis sucks in a
sharp breath, letting it out slowly. “God, yes,” he moans as he feels the curve
of Harry's arse against his thighs, rubbing down on Louis' clothed dick. “Feels
really good, Harry.” It's the first time Louis' ever done anything with anyone,
his first kiss, even, and the feel of something other than his own hand on
himself is enough to cripple him. Add the fact that it's the boy he's been
daydreaming about for a year and it is sheer bliss.
Louis soon feels that white-hot pleasure building up in the pit of his stomach
and he wraps his small hands over Harry's small arse cheeks, guiding him up,
rolling his hips down against Louis' until he's coming in his pants, a throaty
moan ripping out of him and his vision going white. He falls slack, collapsing
down onto Harry, his arms going around his shoulders as he mutters out a quiet
“Holy shit.” They stay like that for a moment until Harry whimpers softly, and
Louis can feel himself already getting hard again.
He stands up, guiding Harry over to his bed and climbing up on it, the racecar-
printed sheets making a stark contrast against what’s going on atop them. Harry
sits there, trembling, his eyes blown with lust and his lips pink and plump
from kissing. Louis immediately pulls him back in, tugging his shirt off and
raking his eyes down Harry’s immature, soft little body.
“My willy’s still really hard,” Harry interjects, his voice sounding a bit
hoarse and desperate. The words go straight to Louis’ cock, and he has to strip
his jeans and shirt off to give himself some air. “Please. Yours got better,
make mine get better. It hurts real bad, Lou.”
Guilt strikes Louis straight in the gut and he suddenly feels horrible for
helping himself instead of Harry first, and he fumbles to pull off Harry’s
trousers and pants and free his aching dick. Harry gasps as soon as it hits the
cool air, and Louis stares down at it. It’s standing tall, flush against
Harry’s pudgy little belly, the head pink and throbbing and it actually looks
like it hurts. Louis grasps it with one hand, his fingers wrapping around
experimentally, and Harry lets out a soft, muffled moan at the contact.
“Touch me,” he begs quietly, and Louis bites his lip hard enough to draw blood.
“It feels really good, Lou, please.”
Louis nods, and he recalls something in a video that his friend Stan had showed
him a while ago. He mimics it, bringing his head down to meet Harry’s belly
button and wrapping his lips tentatively over the head of Harry’s cock. Harry
groans, his hand finding its way into Louis’ hair and tugging on it hard. Louis
pulls back, looking up through thick lashes with a look of guilt on his face.
“Did I do that wrong?” Louis whimpers, but Harry shakes his head vigorously.
“No, god, Louis, it felt so good,” he whines, breathing heavily. “Do it again,
please, do it again. It felt so, so good.”
Louis fumbles and nods as he leans down again, slowly, doing the same as
before, his own cock twitching at the moan that escapes Harry’s lips. He slowly
takes more of Harry into his mouth until his nose is nuzzled into the soft skin
at the base of Harry’s cock, and then he remembers what the girl did in that
video Stan showed him, so he hollows his cheeks out and sucks. Harry wheezes
above him, and Louis figures that’s a good thing, so he keeps doing it, except
he starts to move his head up and down, sucking hard on Harry’s dick and loving
the helpless moans that come from the younger boy. Louis’ got no idea what he’s
doing, but he thinks that Harry likes it, so he keeps going, hollowing his
cheeks and pumping and sucking and even flicking his tongue over the slit at
the top.
“Louis, oh god, Louis,” Harry suddenly shouts, and Louis pulls off to look at
him just as Harry’s hips buck up and he comes with a whine, spurting white and
hot all over Louis’ face. Louis freezes and runs his fingers through the come
on his face. He’s never tasted it before, so he takes three of his fingers and
gets them slick with Harry’s come before sticking them all in his mouth.
He frowns at the bitter taste, but as he looks up and realizes that Harry’s
face is totally wrecked at the sight and he’s hard again, he figures that
tasting it is a good thing.
But Louis’ still painfully hard, even more so now after sucking Harry off, and
he pushes Harry back onto the pillows before crawling on top of him. Harry’s
curls are matted to his forehead with sweat and Louis wipes the rest of the
come off of his face with his hand, sucking on his fingers and licking at the
rest of it, watching the colour drain from Harry’s face as he does and feeling
his lips curl up into a smirk.
“D'you like that?” he taunts, and he doesn’t know where the words came from but
he knows they’re right when Harry nods curtly and blinks blankly, hand flying
down to grab his cock. Louis shoves it away and instead ruts down onto Harry’s
thigh, his dick rubbing down against his boxers in a way that leaves Harry
staring down with his jaw slack and lips pink and plump.
Louis stops for a moment, out of breath and arms trembling where they hold him
up over Harry’s body. He tries to think of a way to help both him and Harry at
the same time, but for god sakes, all Louis knows how to do is wank and he
certainly can’t do that to him and Harry all at once.
Unless.
He kicks off his boxers and crawls up so that his cock is level with Harry’s,
which is standing against his stomach. Harry’s bewildered and confused and he’s
so fucking wrecked that he’s got no idea what to do about it, so Louis teaches
him.
“Give me your hand,” he commands, and Harry obliges, placing his hand in
Louis’. Even though he’s younger than Louis is, his hands are about the same
size, and Louis easily places Harry’s hand on his cock. “Just follow my
movements,” he instructs.
He slides his dick up against Harry’s and wraps his hand around it, linking his
fingers with Harry’s. Their two hands easily fit around both their cocks, and
Louis’ is still pretty slick from Harry’s come. Slowly but surely, he begins to
pump both their cocks, his hand guiding Harry’s up and down and up and down.
It’s not long before he creates a rhythm and the two are moaning in tandem,
Louis using his thumb to flick across both of their pink, flush heads and Harry
following completely. Louis’ arms are beginning to shake and he can feel
himself losing control, shuddering and moaning and hips bucking up erratically.
He comes with a sharp intake of breath and paints Harry’s small chest off-
white.
The friction of their hands is beginning to hurt, but Harry hasn’t come yet,
and Louis wants to make sure that his best friend is all taken care of. He
bites back the pain and continues to guide Harry’s hand up and down along both
their cocks until Harry’s arm begins to stall and Louis pulls Harry’s hand away
and lets himself do the rest of the job, letting Harry thrust up into his fist
and watching as his eyes flutter shut and he comes again, this time screaming
out Louis’ name, and Louis nearly feels like he’s going to get hard again, but
his cock is sensitive and even the slightest touch brings pain.
Louis collapses on top of Harry, the room now dark as the sun’s gone down, and,
completely ignoring the mess of come between the two of them, presses a soft
kiss to Harry’s lips and curls up into his side.
“See, I told you, you wouldn’t turn to stone,” Louis whispers as he pulls the
covers up over the two of them, and he can feel the soft rise and fall of
Harry’s chest. He must be exhausted.
“I believe you now,” Harry murmurs.
End Notes
     if you've seen something in the tags that wasn't in this part, don't
     worry. they'll be in the second part.
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