too hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, they lose. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser.
“I don’t think I know how to play this.” Harry murmurs as Louis sits on the bed and slowly peels his shirt off. “You’ve never played too hot before?” Louis asks, feeling the way Harry’s eyes trail down his bare chest to his v-line beginning to show out of the top of his sweats. “No…I haven’t.” Harry is blushing, still, after almost a year of dating the Doncaster
boy man. “Well, the rules are simple, we kiss, continually making it hotter, and hotter, but there’s no touching.” Louis grins, and Harry’s eyes widen. Louis knows just how much Harry loves to get his hands on him. “No touching? At all?” Harry stutters, and Louis nods. “The first person to touch the other loses, and the winner gets to do whatever they want to the other.” The innocent look on Harry’s face quickly got dirty. “Let’s do it Tomlinson, I bet I can win.” Harry arches an eyebrow, and Louis rolls his eyes. “Sure Hazza, we all know who’ll be on their hands and knees tonight and it’s not me.”
Harry scoffed, and Louis moved up onto the bed, sitting on Harry’s lap and straddling it. He rocked his hips slightly to get more comfortable, and could hear Harry’s quiet, stifled moan. Louis doesn’t hesitate to tuck his hands behind his back and crash his lips onto Harry’s. Harry is quite eager to kiss him back, and Louis catches the way his hands twitch, then grip the bedsheets.
“Already…losing..eh Haz?” Louis says in-between kisses, and Harry shakes his head, kissing him back. Louis catches himself as they tip back, and bites down gently on Harry’s bottom lip, slipping his tongue into the younger boy’s mouth.
Harry moans loudly into the kiss, his tongue fighting for dominance along with Louis’, but Louis knows just how badly it’s killing Harry not being able to touch him. Right out of the gate, Harry’s typically got his hands all over Louis’ ass and Louis has no problem with that. So he can tell when Harry’s boxers get a little tighter that he’s getting antsy and squeamish. Louis rocks his hips against Harry’s pelvis, and that does it.
Harry’s hands make a sharp slapping sound as they connect with Louis bum, his large hands and long fingers pushing underneath Louis’ sweats to grope and knead and grasp onto the very nice swell of his arse.
Sitting up with a victorious battle cry, Louis raises his hands into the air. “I win!” He smiles, and Harry pouts. “You didn’t last very long now did you?” Louis teases, and Harry rolls his eyes. “I last longer than you all the time.” He retorts smugly, and Louis places a chaste kiss to his lips, then sits up and runs his hands down Harry’s chest. “Now, what shall I do with you?”
yay sexy sex makeout boop!