Ahoy, mate, and welcome aboard the SS Stylinson, the ship of dreams. This is a happy, gay place, free of heterosexuality. Unfortunately, Captain Horan is on an extended lunch break and First Mate Tomlinson is off fraternizing with the Dread Pirate Styles, so all inquiries will have to be left in the ask box. We hope you enjoy your stay.
The Money Shot (NC-17)

Summary: Harry and Louis make a sex tape.

For froso’s prompt. Hope you like it, darling.


"Don’t look right into the camera. Pretend it’s not even there," Louis instructed, face hidden behind the camera that was currently pointing at Harry’s dick.

"Not all of us were born to make amateur porn," Harry said testily. Nevertheless, he let out a pornstar-worthy moan when he sank down, hole stretched wide around the girth of Louis’s cock. He wondered how Louis always managed to talk him into these kinds of situations, until he remembered that he was the original instigator of their current attempt to create their own X-rated video.

It began with twitter, as tended to be the case for the vast majority of the unsavory drama in their lives as international pop stars. He had logged into twitter that afternoon to find that #larrystylinsonsextape had trended worldwide. Again. A year ago, this would have been the source of much embarrassment for Harry, especially when his old mates from school and, worse yet, his mother, would retweet it at him. Now, he barely gave it a second thought. Until thirty seconds later, when his phone vibrated with a text from Louis:

We should make one.

Harry rolled his eyes; Louis was in the next room. Probably wanking. He decided to play dumb.  Make what?

The reply came instantaneously. You. Me. Have sex. On camera.

Harry ignored the fact that it was generally futile to say no to Louis Tomlinson, and wrote back: no.

Why not?

Three reasons. One: you got the idea from twitter and twitter is the brainchild of the devil. Two: it will be embarrassing and awkward. Three: it will inevitably be leaked and I will forever associate sex with acute, career-ruining, dick-shrinking embarrassment.

If he were honest with himself, Harry didn’t entirely object to the idea, mostly because he had a sneaking suspicion that the sex tape would simply end up as wanking material for Louis, a thought that was strangely appealing. He couldn’t give in without a fight, though. He wasn’t completely whipped.

Three rebuttals. One: I promise you I had the idea long before twitter, in fact I have a list of 99 sex-related things I want to do with you, making a sex tape is number 56 on that list. Two: did I ever mention that I get turned on when you’re embarrassed and awkward? Three: when did a leaked sex tape ever hurt anyone’s career?

The banter continued for some time, and while Harry didn’t exactly express his agreement to the idea, he was completely unsurprised to find a camera on the coffee table that evening, and Louis lying on the sofa with a shit-eating grin on his face.

So maybe Harry was a bit whipped. Completely, irrefutably whipped. Which brought him back to his present predicament of trying to ride his boyfriend’s dick while “acting natural”, as Louis had instructed. It had taken him a bit more time than usual to get into the swing of things, but he was fully hard and gagging to be fucked by the time he had Louis’s cock inside him. Harry blamed his inner exhibitionist.

"I don’t understand," he said, rising up and down in a jerky rhythm, "why I’m the only one being filmed here. I thought this was a joint effort."

"Hmmm, you’re gorgeous, babe, keep going" Louis replied, throwing Harry off a little with the nonchalant compliment. Louis was visibly holding himself back in order to keep the camera steady, though his cheeks were pink and his grip on the equipment tightened each time Harry sank back down on his cock.

After a few minutes, Louis seemed to sense Harry’s increasing self-consciousness.

"I have an idea," he said. "Turn around. I can still get a good shot and you don’t have to face the camera."

Still impaled on Louis’s cock, Harry turned 180 degrees until he was facing Louis’s legs. Placing his hands on Louis’s knees, he rocked backward and forward experimentally, gasping at the new sensations that shot through his body thanks to the change in position.

Louis let out a hiss of approval. “Fuck yeah, you look so fucking good like this. That’s it, work your sweet tight ass on my cock. I wish you could see yourself like this, Hazza, you’re so hot …”

Harry chanced a backwards glance over his shoulder and saw that instead of focusing on the screen of the camera, Louis was staring fixedly at the spot where his cock moved in and out of Harry’s hole, eyes glazed and mouth slightly open. Harry could feel the tips of his ears burn with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

Louis placed his free hand on Harry’s lower back, roving over the play of muscles in his back and thighs. “Lean forward and arch your back a little,” he said, voice llow and raspy.

Harry whined as he obeyed, thighs falling further apart as he struggled to balance himself in this position. He slowly lifted himself up so that only the tip of Louis’s cock was inside him, then surged down in one swift motion.

Louis released a heartfelt groan and started bucking upward to meet Harry’s thrusts. “Good boy, Hazza. Oh my god you look better than porn. Fuck yourself harder on my cock.”

Eyes drifting shut, Harry concentrated on the sound of Louis’s voice as he rode him faster, keen to please the other boy. The position made him feel delightfully dirty; Louis certainly seemed to approve of the view by the way he couldn’t stop running his hands over Harry’s ass and lower back.

“Goddamn yes, such a slut for my cock, Hazza, can’t get enough of it, can you? C’mon, I wanna hear you.” Harry, who was normally taciturn during sex, was making the most embarrassing whines each time Louis’s cock struck his prostate. The heat simmering in his lower belly was nearing a boiling point. He couldn’t help reaching down to palm the head of his leaking cock.

Louis slapped his ass hard. “Did I say you could touch yourself?”

Harry yelp, hole spasming and clenching in surprise. “But I’m so close,” he whined, almost sobbing.

“Don’t come until I say so.” It was an order.

There was a clatter and Harry turned to see Louis drop the camera onto the coffee table, aim the lens so that it continued to film their intercourse, grab Harry’s hips hard enough to bruise and start pounding away at his arse. It was all Harry could do to hold on for dear life as his body was plundered for Louis’s pleasure.

“Yesss, fuck me harder, Lou. Come in me … fill me up …”

Louis thrust so hard and it was so achingly good that it almost hurt. Harry had to grip the base of his cock tight so as not to come. Just as Harry thought he couldn’t hold it back any longer, Louis orgasmed and Harry moaned at the slippery-slide of Louis’s cock inside him, lubricated by his own come. He listened to the slowing down in Louis’s breathing, squirming impatiently and awaiting instructions from the other boy.

Finally, Louis lifted him up from his cock with a wet, squelching sound. “Look at you, all fucked open with my come leaking out of you,” he said almost reverently, thumb tracing the rim of Harry’s hole. Harry was beyond embarrassment now; he was so desperate for release.

“Please, Louis …”

“Turn around so I can see you,” Louis commanded. Harry swung his legs around so that he was sitting astride Louis’s chest. He studied Harry’s erection with a lazy smile while Harry tried not to hump his leg.

“You may touch yourself.”

Harry moaned in relief as he jerked himself roughly, opting for speed rather than finesse. Louis’s tongue darted out over his lips as he watched and God, he must have done that on purpose because it always drove Harry a bit mad. Harry bit back a hoarse shout and pumped streaks of come over Louis’s chest, body shaking like a leaf with the force of his orgasm.

When he came to, Louis was rubbing soothing circles into his scalp and murmuring nonsensical endearments. He had the camera back in his hand and pointing at Harry, Harry who looked absolutely wrecked with tousled hair and glazed eyes.

“Be a good boy and clean up your mess,” Louis said, gently but firmly. He tugged at Harry’s curly locks and Harry didn’t need to be told twice before bending down to lap at the semen dotting Louis’s tummy, tasting the salt of sweat and come. Louis sighed his approval and zoomed in on Harry’s blissful expression. The tiny screen of the camera was filled with wide green eyes framed with wet lashes, pink tongue darting out in kittenish licks, so incongruously innocent and perverse that Louis had to drag Harry’s mouth up to his own to share the taste and whisper into his mouth you’re perfect and so lucky to have you and I love you so much.


Harry vowed to destroy the sex tape as soon as he could get his hands on it, but Louis effectively distracted him with the other 98 items on his list of sex-related things he wanted to do to Harry.