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Harry doesn’t make it a habit of spending his Monday afternoons wearing polyester costumes and surrounded by six year olds. Although when Louis asked for a favor, he was enroute to Party City within twenty minutes of hanging up the phone.
Right out of graduate school, Louis began teaching first grade. He settled into the role quickly, and began a few classroom traditions— after the end of the year testing he throws a pizza party, for the holidays in December he makes a goody bag for each student, and on Valentine’s Day the last two class periods are designated for treats and fun.
This year Louis wanted Cupid to attend his classroom party. That is where Harry comes in.
If he had his way, he would have selected one of the more enticing cupid costumes. Maybe one with a mini skirt. Instead he is stuck with a cream, one shouldered romper with a red compression top plastered underneath because heaven forbid he show a nipple.
The main part of the costume is fine, but the straps of the plush, golden wings are chafing his armpits and the gold flake of the bow and arrow is rubbing off from the heat of his hands.
At the very least his long legs are showcased and he is wearing his comfortable, beat up Vans.
Louis took the cheater's way out, as his only bit of holiday flair is a red headband with puffy heart antennas.
The Kidz Bop is pumping, the cupcakes are decadently chocolatey, and at least half of the students in Mr Tomlinson’s class are shyly presenting him with handmade paper valentines and blushing under his appreciation.
Harry has managed to collect his own group of admirers. Mainly they want to feel his wings or snatch his bow and arrow. He may have overheard a few kids call him ‘old’ which hurt more than it should have.
The end of day bell has Louis and Harry flanking the doorway, handing out high fives and small bags of candy. Once the final member of the Mr Tomlinson fan club trots off with their goodies, it’s time to clean up.
Louis locks the classroom door from the inside and removes his dark gray sweater, leaving him in black jeans and a loose black tank top.
If Harry weren’t already feeling warm with his long sleeve compression top and wings, the sight of Louis’ delicious collarbones and firm biceps would raise his temperature.
“Haz, can you grab all the trash while I take down the decorations?”
“Sure, Lou.”
Harry begins collecting tiny used plates and empty juice boxes to toss away, while Louis removes handfuls of red, pink, and white decorations. They work in companionable silence as they tidy up and return the room to it's normal, every day cheeriness.
“Thank you for doing this. I would have understood if you said no,” Louis’ voice breaks the quiet of the room.
“You’re welcome. Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Being around your kids was fun,” Harry says as he returns the full trash bin to its place next to Louis’ desk.
He leans against the edge of the desk, popping a leftover heart shaped lollipop into his mouth and watches Louis work.
The lithe muscles of his back stretch under his smooth skin as he extends his arms overhead for the higher placed decorations. His thick thighs slightly tremble while on his tip toes, reaching up in vain. Harry has never been so grateful for his friend’s stubborn nature and distaste of step ladders.
“Yeah they’re pretty good kids overall,” Louis agrees, the smile in his voice evident.
“Seems like a fair share of the have a little crush on the handsome Mr Tomlinson. Got yourself a healthy stack of valentines over here,” teases Harry. His words slightly garbled around his lollipop.
Louis snatches the last vaguely heart shaped decoration, undoubtedly created by a student. “What, are you jealous of a group of six year olds?” He saunters over to Harry, the heart antennas bobbling with every step.
“Pfft, no. They’re kids. But I do appreciate their taste level.”
“What can I say? My charm is transcendent, people like me— smitten six year olds, the old bitties at the bakery, hot dummies wearing polyester cupid costumes.”
A satisfied smile forms around the white stick of the lollipop. “Even dogs like you better.”
“It’s everyone, love.”
Louis cups Harry’s cheek and pries the candy from his mouth. His lips fall open as he places the lollipop into his own mouth. After a few sucks, he orders, “Help me bring these to the closet.”
They organize the student artwork and decorations into neat piles, and head towards the back of the classroom.
When Louis was first assigned this classroom, he was excited over the walk-in supply closet attached to the room. Between the amount of books, stationary, and arts supplies coupled with his lax organization, he definitely needs all the space he could get.
They walk inside and Harry awaits further instruction. It is a tight squeeze between the built-in shelves, assorted plastic storage bins on the floor, and two grown men inside.
Louis moves several large bins until he finds one with ‘holidays’ inscribed along the side in permanent marker. He pops the lid and begins arranging the contents to make enough room for the Valentine’s Day decor he just removed. The students' artwork is placed in a smaller tub and into a separate folder titled ‘kiddos- vday’.
Once everything is organized ‘The Tommo Way’, Louis turns to face Harry and pulls the lollipop from his mouth. He shuts the door with a quick flick of the wrist.
“You know Harry, I really do appreciate what you did for me today. It was kind of a ridiculous favor to ask of you. Can I show you how thankful I am?” Louis asks, running his hand along the outline of Harry’s peaked nipple.
“Do you have more candy?”
“This is better than candy.”
“Cupcakes?”
Louis rolls his eyes and teases the lollipop against Harry’s lips until he takes it into his mouth.
“You’re an idiot,” he scoffs and falls to his knees. He snakes an arm up the leg of the shorts to rub Harry through his underwear. Being in close proximity with Louis, his bare biceps and glistening collarbones already has his cock stirring. “Is this better than a cupcake?”
Harry pretends to mull it over. “Not yet but I’m sure it will be.”
“Drop the toga, Haz.”
“Yes Mr Tomlinson.”
He rushes to push off the straps of his tiny golden wings and shove off the fabric gathered onto one shoulder. The thin romper flutters to the ground around his ankles.
Louis is quick to pull the waistband of his underwear around his thighs and nestle his face in the thick hair at the base of Harry’s cock. He breathes in the scent of faint soap and musky boy while rolling his balls in his warm hands.
“Fuck you smell so good,” Louis moans before swallowing down his cock in one fluid motion.
Harry groans as his cock is enveloped in the wet, tight heat. His hands fall onto the soft hair at Louis’ nape, gently tugging it at the roots. Every shuddery exhale against his pubic hair sends more blood rushing to his dick.
Louis looks up at him under his dark eyelashes and removes one of Harry’s hands from his head and places it against his throat.
They exchange matching wide eyed looks while Harry places the faintest amount of pressure with his thumb to the side of his neck. Under his palm, he can feel the slight vibrations in Louis’ throat from a satisfied moan and applies firmer pressure.
The sight alone of Louis on his knees with a strong hand around his throat and a cock in his mouth is almost too much to handle. This image is definitely a new addition to Harry’s spank bank. Even with the silly headband.
With a solid grip to Louis’ sweaty throat and the other hand resting between the antennas of his headband, Harry shallowly thrusts his hips into his hot mouth. Beads of perspiration slip from the hem of his compression top and disappear into the dark hair of his groin.
Louis grips his own erection roughly through denim, eyelids fluttering shut as Harry pushes his cock fully into his mouth and holds it there a few moments. He can feel the spasms of his throat accommodating his length, the smooth muscles squeezing him tightly.
The close quarters of the closet is filled with muffled chokes, grunts, and the heat radiating off both of their bodies.
The need to come is racing through Harry. He is overwhelmed by the tingles zipping up and down his spine and the fire burning low in his belly. The hand on top of Louis' head drops down to the side of his neck, not applying additional pressure but just to feel his pulse thrum under his fingers.
Harry’s thrusts become shallow and sloppy as he stares down, watching his cock disappear into that beautiful mouth. Louis’ eyes flash open, the vivid blue catching him off guard. He sneaks a finger inside the stretched corner of his mouth, but pulls it out just as quickly.
If looking into Louis’ glittering eyes was a surprise, Harry was not anticipating a saliva-coated finger pressing at his rim.
The utter shock in combination with the tongue swirling into his slit, has Harry shuttering and spilling down Louis’ throat. His pleasure rolls in waves as Louis continues to suck him down, and the remnants of the lollipop tumbles from his mouth as he tosses his head back.
Once he lets Harry fall from his mouth, Louis is forcing his zipper down and getting a hand fully around himself. He jerks himself frantically, darting his eyes between Harry’s softening cock, heaving chest, and flushed face.
His hand is a blur over his red, leaking cock and it would be one of the hottest displays Harry has ever bared witness to. But because of the heart antennas flying over his head, a smile creeps onto his face.
Also contributing to his amusement is being bare assed in a supply closet, with a twenty dollar costume around his ankles, and drying saliva on his asshole.
Louis comes with a shaky whimper into the palm of his hand. As he squeezes the last dribble dripping from his foreskin, he looks up at Harry and coyly giggles.
“Told you it would be better than cupcakes,” Louis teases.
He cautiously gets off his knees, careful to not spill the come in his hand, and tucks himself in with his clean hand.
Harry squawks out a laugh and clutches his sweaty stomach. “I should have known better than to doubt you.”
“Keep up, Styles. Pick up your lollipop up off the floor. And pull your pants up. You’re in an institute of learning for fucksakes.”
Harry scrambles to pull his underwear up and adjusts his romper, “It smells like man— a mixture of boy and man in here.”
They leave the hot, humid closet once appropriately covered up. Louis leaves the door open and finds a wet wipe to clean off his hand.
“So Lou, have any plans tonight?” Harry timidly perches himself on the edge of a desk while Louis collects his belongings.
“I assumed we were getting dinner and you would make me watch some obscure, indie lesbian movie.” He grabs his backpack and keys, heading towards the door.
Harry smiles shyly. “On one condition. Will you be my Valentine?”
After smiling at the ceiling and a healthy pause, Louis admits, “I already thought I was. Now let’s go, babe.”
He extends his hand, which Harry pauses to grab. “Don’t give me your come-hand, give me the other one.”
Louis places both his hands between Harry’s shoulders and shoves him out the door.