Louis blazed a tongue trail over Harry. Starting at his temples, he worked his way down to his cheeks, his chin, then throat, chest, upper arms, ribs, then belly. The entire while, Harry barely moved or made a sound. He was afraid the spell might be broken, and Louis would stop. Louis had him captivated. And he couldn't even see him. In stark, inky blackness, it was Louis' actions that held him enraptured.

Louis wasn't known for his patience, but he was working hard on it. He forced himself to slow things down because he knew Harry adored it. In the past, their lovemaking after a concert had been fevered and full of desperation. Harry knew Louis thrived on it. Louis had been untamed and almost out of hand, especially after concerts. It was wildly exciting, and something Harry had always awaited with a pounding heart. Harry actually loved it both ways.

However, tonight, Louis had adopted a Styles approach, and Harry knew precisely why. Louis was trying to please Harry to the maximum, and prove to him that the love was more important to him than an animal-like pairing. The gesture caused a lump to grow in Harry's throat. Of course he knew Louis had always loved him. He'd never doubted it.

Two years had matured Louis, and he wanted to put Harry's needs first tonight. Not that he had been selfish in the past—not at all, it was just that Louis had always been overly excited by Harry and containing himself had been a monumental effort. Concerts brought out the primitive side of him.

Louis lifted his body and rose to Harry's mouth again, Harry taken aback for a moment. Even though Lou had slowed down, Harry had expected him to take care of business rather directly. But no . . . Louis' soft tongue massaged his own, little whimpers leaking from the older lad's lips, escaping into Harry's mouth.

Harry felt a little fuzzy yet from the cocktails they'd had, but it made the experience so sensual that he felt time was moving even more slowly, deliberately, and it was delightfully accommodating. He couldn't resist Louis' wicked mouth that was growing more demanding and more lascivious by the minute, despite the older lad's efforts to be smooth and unhurried.

It was exquisite, decided Harry. There wasn't another word for it that would do it justice. It was intimate, not frantic. Sensual, not desperate.

After some extended kissing, Louis trailed down the same path on Harry's body, but this time he included little licks to Harry's hip bones. Harry held his breath, but Louis came back up again, assaulting his mouth once more.

The third time, Louis included licks to Harry's thighs. Just a few with that moist, sweet tongue of his. He also fondled and sucked at Harry's nipples, lavishing them, causing Harry's breath to hitch over and over. The fourth time, Louis urged Harry to spread his legs by pressing his hands on the insides of his thighs. Harry eagerly complied. Then Louis' tongue went to work again—on the inside of his thighs, but nowhere else.

By now Harry was beside himself. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. Louis was taking his time, leaving Harry wondering if anything was, in fact, going to happen at all, or if this teasing was going to go on for an eternity. He moaned helplessly, and Louis returned to his lips.

The adrenaline pumping through Harry was a continuous high. He'd never been this turned on before. A sense of almost debilitating urgency consumed him.

"Need you, Lou," he whispered. The beautiful man hovering over him offered too much temptation; and even though he couldn't see him in the dark, he knew how gorgeous he was.

"I want to take this slow, baby," was Louis' answer.

Okay, well Harry guessed he had no choice then. Trouble was, he was getting a little uneasy, wondering how he could keep from coming before Louis even touched him in a critical area.

Now Louis was sucking Harry's tongue into his mouth, grunting as he did so. They thrashed around some, and then Louis headed back down Harry's body again.

When Harry felt Louis' silky wet tongue touching the head of his cock out of nowhere, he cried out. It just materialized through no effort of Harry's, and Louis loved hearing it along with Harry's ragged breath.

Louis teased him by taking him into his mouth—just the head, sucking softly until Harry felt his orgasm approaching, then Louis would stop with perfect, precise timing. How many times Louis did this, Harry had no idea because he wasn't even capable of counting by now.

The licking up and down the sides and the ball licking was getting to be too much. Louis gave Harry a couple of really good, long sucks to make things even hotter, then arrived back at Harry's mouth. Harry was ready for him. He reached down, grabbed Louis' cock, and encouraged him to straddle his chest.

Louis practically fed his cock into Harry's mouth, and Harry could tell instantly how much this love play had turned Louis on. The lad was hard as iron, the pre-come abundant. Harry sucked him so hard, so greedily that his cheeks hollowed, the way they both liked it when they were close to orgasm.

Louis approached his climax very quickly, but pulled away promptly, going back to Harry's cock. They repeated this process many times. Every time one of them would be close, they'd switch, then go back to kissing.

Soon, both were balancing on the very edge of release, their lips swollen from all the kissing and sucking, and so they turned around so they could suck each other at the same time. The buildup had been so intense that it was only seconds later that they both came. This denying themselves caused splendid, long lasting explosions from both of them that was stronger than any previous episode either of them had had the delight of undergoing. Louis had barely gotten in a few licks and sucks, and Harry had deep throated Louis for what seemed like only an instant. The warm splashes on their tongues was so arousing that it only extended their orgasms.

They collapsed after swallowing every last drop, and then turning around to kiss hungrily, their tastes blended.

The second round, only half an hour later, Harry advised, "Don't chase the orgasm. Let me pull it out of you."

Oh, so turnaround was fair play, huh?

Louis guessed he was going to get his wish after all. Harry was now at the controls, and Louis' wish to be dominated had been granted sooner than he had imagined. Louis knew what Harry was talking about when he said he wanted to "pull the orgasm" from him. Harry had loved to do this when they'd been together for those several early years. Louis was not allowed to tense up, strain, or "chase" it, as Harry called it. It was a totally different feeling, giving yourself totally up to the other. Just feeling, just enjoying. Something that couldn't be described, but it was spectacular when it happened, as the climax could not be rivaled. It could only be achieved by slow, torturous methods. The thing that Harry was the very best at. Orgasm was approached over and over again, and delayed until it couldn't possibly be put off any longer.

And so Harry delivered the same excruciating build-up to Louis as Louis had done to him. But hey, it was only fair. He had Louis moaning, begging, before he finally allowed him release. At one point, Louis, unraveled by now, rebelled quite vehemently.

"I fuckin' swear Styles, I'm about to detonate all by meself, ya little shit!"

"Wrong, you're the little shit," Harry smirked.

Harry nevertheless made sure his Boo Bear had an unforgettable orgasm. When the moment finally came, Harry sucked Louis hard, taking him down his throat with no inhibitions, massaging his entire length with his mouth and throat. He was so damn good at it. And yes, he pulled the orgasm right out of the passionate lad that just happened to be his sunshine.

Louis cried from the intensity of it all. He never imagined he'd love anyone as much as he loved Harry. They'd both risked so much for this love.

Afterwards, they were worn to the bone, and they cuddled, sleeping soundly, and dreaming of the tremendous high they'd gotten from singing together again. Really together, and not just pretending to be happy on the stage. And the best part—celebrating at home afterward.

Something told Harry to open his eyes. He was being watched.

Shit. It was too early.

It was morning, he realized when he sensed the light behind his eyelids, and as he labored to wrench his eyes open, there was Louis, lurking in the doorway in his red fuzzy slippers, an eerie element clinging to him. Calm, composed, yet dynamic. At first glance, Harry yanked the covers over his head.

He knew that look.

"Don't attack me," he whined, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"Attack you? What gives you that idea?" asked Louis, the evil look on his face advertising his cocky state of mind.

"You're dodgy and sneaky, with questionable motives."

Louis had to laugh at Harry's reply.

"Okay, so maybe I'm all of those, but . . . trust, Harry. Trust."

"Go get a squirt gun and find Liam—work off that excess energy, then come back," advised Harry.

"Oh, I reckon you worked me energy off right well last night, Curly."

Harry blushed, even though he was hidden under the covers. He couldn't help it—it just happened with or without his consent.

"And did you hear what I said?" demanded Louis. "Trust."

Harry slowly lowered the covers, peering out at Louis with just his eyes. "Yeah," he said, remembering similar incidents from the past. That certain tone told Harry Louis was serious, and not in attack mode.

Trust. Harry had plenty of that, except when Louis was overly playful.

Louis approached, then threatened to tickle Harry. Testing him, that's what he was doing. Always pushing, taking it to the next step.

Harry retreated under the covers once again, until Louis said, "Trust, Styles," reminding him that he had no intention of doing anything to distress Harry. Harry uncovered his head and chest, demonstrating his trust, eyes wide and questioning.

Louis laid down next to Harry and placed his hand on Harry's naked side, near his ribs. Harry tensed. That was his most ticklish spot.

"Trust," murmured Louis again, and Harry relaxed completely. If they didn't have trust, they had nothing. They snuggled, Louis running his palms over Harry's body from time to time to test Harry again, but Harry remained chilled out. This was unambiguously what Louis had been aiming for.

"By the way, Simon's on the phone," Louis said casually. Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Why didn't ya tell me, man?"

"I reckoned he could wait," Louis said arrogantly, acting as if Simon were the last item on his to-do list.

"Where's your phone?" Harry looked around in confusion, not having heard Louis' ringtone. He knew it would have awakened him.

"In the living room," Louis jerked his thumb in the general direction. "I left it out there last night so it wouldn't disturb us," there was that close-to-evil look again.

So the evil look had to do with Simon.

"You mean, you've already answered it, and he's waitin' on you now?" asked Harry.

Louis nodded and walked in deliberate, measured steps out of the room, bouncing a little, showing off for Harry, clearly taking his sweet time, and returning just as lazily with the phone in his hand.

"Okay, I'm here," said Louis at the phone, his voice a monotone.

"Do you really have to be quite so obvious?" Simon's voice blared. It seemed to bounce off the walls, making Harry's slight hangover headache pound.

Harry's cheeks immediately colored again.

"About what?" asked Louis, lounging on the bed, crossing his ankles, playing dumb, and loving it.

"Never mind," Simon's voice was decidedly irritable. Louis waited, wondering what Simon would have to say about last night's concert.

Simon attempted to wait Louis out. Wrong choice. He should have known Louis would wait all day before he'd speak first.

Finally, Simon relented and said, "It just may work."

"Oh, what?" Louis continued to pretend to be clueless and difficult as well as off-hand, forcing Simon to spell it out.

"The plan," said Simon, as if the idea had been partly his. Of course he'd want to take credit for it. What was new?

Yeah, it had been successful, and it was Simon's very nature to try to grab the glory. Anything that would make him look good, Louis mused.

"What plan?" Louis was such a bitch, thought Harry happily. He was making Simon dig for every response.

"Damn it, Louis! What do you think? The concert! Are you going to talk about it or not?" Simon demanded.

"Actually it was our idea. Mine and Harry's," Louis reminded him quietly, his voice sounding like a quietly stalking cat if a cat were to have a voice.

"Whatever, semantics," Simon waved off his comment.

"Not semantics . . . the truth." Harry was fending off his laughter, his hand clasped over his mouth. Man, but Louis had some enormous balls!

Liam and Niall's heads appeared around the door frame, Niall's eyes carefully averted from Harry, who was naked in bed. They'd heard Louis' phone ring as Louis had emerged from the bathroom in his briefs, had watched him pick it up and tell Simon to hold. Then Louis had gone back to Harry's bedroom, leaving the phone on the couch. They'd heard Simon's voice on speaker, and could scarcely believe Louis would do something so outlandish. They had huddled in the corner, eyeing the phone as if it had teeth and claws.

"Whatever . . ." Simon was barely managing to rein in his temper. "The response from the audience speaks for itself."

"I told you—I think every one of us did," Louis referred to the rest of the band. "We knew it all along."

Simon hated, absolutely detested, dealing with Louis and how smug he was being. The kid couldn't even be civil.

"Well, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing," said Simon sarcastically. "Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page. We're headed in the right direction."

"Of course we are. We're only headed in one direction," Louis couldn't resist saying it. "Thanks to Harry for naming the band, because we're living up to it. We're on the top, and we're bloody gonna stay there."

"Later," snipped Simon, and he rang off, causing all four lads to burst into laughter.

"That was awesome!" crowed Niall, slapping his knee.

"Simon's a tosser, and he can bloody well sod off!" Louis fumed.

Harry was surprised Louis hadn't used even stronger language. At least wanker. But then, the lad was still tired, not having gotten much sleep.

The other two fully entered the room, Niall still keeping his eyes off Harry.

"Niall," grumbled Harry. "I've got the sheet over me hips. Don't worry, you won't see anythin.'"

"But yer naked under there," whined Niall.

"You've seen me naked how many times? How is this different?" Harry wanted to know. Niall didn't know what to say. It was the circumstances, not just the fact that Harry was naked. But he wasn't about to say it out loud.

Louis chuckled.

"He's thinkin' 'bout pullin' that sheet down," said Liam, watching Louis knowingly and stifling a laugh.

"No, he wouldn't be that mean," stated Harry. "He already used up his meanness this mornin' on Simon . . . I hope."

"Trust, Hazza, trust," Louis reminded him, and the others looked on in confusion.

"It's a thing," said Harry, as if that would explain everything.

"Anyway, we need a code word, Boo," Harry added.

"Code word?"

"Yeah, in case Simon calls."

"Like what?" Louis was bewildered.

"I don't know . . . potassium?" Harry looked so damn innocent.

"Potassium?" everyone said at the same time.

"Well, it's as good as anythin', yeah?"

"No, potassium won't do," Louis looked thoughtful. "Magnesium sounds better."

Liam and Niall (and especially Niall) laughed loudly. In fact, Niall rolled on the bed, clutching his stomach because what else could possibly be so funny?

Harry grabbed at the sheet, Niall's body having slowly but surely slid it down Harry's body when he rolled. Another two inches and . . .

"Niall! You're gonna expose Harry!" Louis admonished. That stopped Niall in his tracks, and he sat up dutifully, eyeing Harry sideways as Harry jerked the sheet back just in the nick of time.

"Wait . .. I don't understand why you even need a code word," reasoned Liam. "I mean, the phone displays who is callin.'" Made perfect sense, but Louis shrugged.

"Don't argue with Harry. If he wants a code word, he'll damn well get one."

Liam and Niall shared a look that clearly said, Louis has it bad.

"Let's sleep a little longer. We were up really late," Louis suggested. Harry's answer was to pull him under the sheet into a secure hug. Liam and Niall quickly exited.

Hours later, Liam knocked on the door.

"Don't you guys ever get enough?" he asked.

"Never enough!" cried a bitchy Louis, who had been sleeping blissfully. "Never enough!" He picked up a shoe from beside the bed and flung it at the door. Niall could be heard laughing without control in the background. That laugh was so contagious that Louis giggled, just because he couldn't stop himself.

"Whaaat?" said Harry, just waking up and trying to clear the fog from his mind.

"I don't know why they're up so early the morning after a concert, but they think we're makin' love again," explained Louis.

Louis ringtone was heard again, this time from somewhere near the foot on the bed.

"Shit! I forgot to put the fuckin' thing back in the livin' room," said Louis. Harry smiled. Now Louis was acting more like himself, dirty mouth and all.

Harry found the phone under a fold in the blanket, peered at the screen, looked at Louis with a long-suffering expression and said, "Magnesium."