Liam isn't at all sure what's going on.
Nothing else has happened, really, since that one night, but—Louis won't shut up about it, is the thing. He finds any excuse to slip into conversation how much Liam likes getting fucked, and Liam turns red and his tummy goes squirmy every time he hears Louis boasting about it, because it's mortifying but it's also kind of—there's something else, something about the way Louis's so delighted, like Liam impressed him, and Liam kind of likes that part.
Liam still hasn't even confirmed that it happened, but the others seem to have accepted that Louis's not having them on because one day Zayn takes Liam aside and quietly asks what it was like. Liam refuses to talk about it, and Zayn just says, "But you really liked it, yeah?" with this strangely intense look on his face and Liam is spending so much time bright red lately that he's forgotten what his normal skintone looks like.
Then there's the way Niall keeps giving him these goofy, knowing grins, and making stupid jokes, asking Liam if it still hurts to sit down, and the way Harry and Louis seem to be whispering to each other a hell of a lot more than usual. And then there's the way Louis keeps—keeps hinting back to what he said when they were in bed, the thing about the others, and it's—Liam is like ninety-nine percent sure he's kidding, just trying to get Liam flustered, but. But what if he isn't? Liam doesn't know how to deal with it.
He also doesn't know how to deal with the fact that he literally can't orgasm anymore unless he's got his fingers inside him. He spends a few nights experimenting with awkward angles and poking and prodding and wondering how Louis managed to make it seem so easy and seamless like his fingers were just meant to go in there—but then it works, and it's nowhere near as good as Louis's cock inside him but Liam is still just hooked on the feeling of it, of being filled up. He has to try not to do it so often, because he always ends up thinking about Louis during, and those things Louis said, and it just feels wrong to fantasise about that, but. Sometimes his mind goes there before he can stop it, and he thinks about Harry's teasing and Zayn's questions and Niall's amused little looks and then he's coming so hard he feels like he could black out.
And that's—significant, maybe.
(Liam doesn't really fantasise at all, as a rule, because if he thinks about something that could actually happen there's a risk of it being a letdown when it actually does, and if he thinks about something that would never happen then he just ends up sort of miserable.
The problem with this is that he's honestly not sure which of the two it is.)
For the most part he does an all right job of not dwelling on it, but the others are making that difficult. It seems like it's getting worse, like they can't go more than fifteen minutes without somebody making some sort of reference towards what he and Louis got up to that one night. He could cope with it at first but he's been getting stressed out again lately, finding it hard to sleep and to concentrate on things, and he doesn't know what to do.
They've just arrived in a new city and they've got a night off before a day packed full of promotion, and Liam is exhausted just thinking about what lies ahead, wondering how he's supposed to smile and chat his way through a dozen interviews tomorrow when he feels so on edge. He goes straight to his room for a shower, hoping for a relaxing evening, but as soon as he's pulled some clean clothes on and is about to lie down and see what's on TV, there's a banging on his door of a volume that means it can only be Louis. They didn't get spare keys at this hotel so for a moment Liam entertains the idea of ignoring the pounding of Louis's fists and pretending to have gone to bed already—but after about eight seconds the guilt is too much and he goes to open the door. His heart starts beating a little faster as he remembers the last time Louis showed up alone in his hotel room unannounced.
But this time Louis isn't alone.
"Hey, we thought tonight seemed like a good night for a slumber party in your room," he announces, stepping past Liam and beckoning for the others to follow.
"Oh," says Liam, surprised. "I was—oh. I thought I might just, take it easy tonight, actually. You know. Watch some TV and call my Mum and stuff. If that's okay."
It's true, that was what he was planning, but now that they're here he finds he does sort of want company. It's just—he's not sure they really mean it. It feels like pity lately, when they do this, when they show up in a way that's clearly been arranged, with some plan to try cheer him up. It's been like this ever since Danielle left and he's even wondered if they have some sort of schedule so they can take turns, spend time with him in shifts. It makes him feel like a failure for not having recovered from it yet, guilty. And he's painfully aware that he's no fun at all at the moment—it's hard to force himself to join in with their antics when there's this ball of stress and sadness taking up too much room in his chest and he knows it's bringing them down as well, and until it gets any better he doesn't want to burden them. When they're being weird, teasing him about what happened with Louis, it's even harder to try and act normal.
Louis is frowning at him. "Why do you do that?" he asks suddenly, almost sharply, and Liam is taken aback.
"That thing, where you distance yourself from us on purpose," Louis says, and there's a sudden tension in the room like this is something everyone's always thought but never mentioned. "It's not just when we go out drinking and you stay in, it's like—like now, why? It's not always just about wanting to be alone, I can tell when you want to be alone and you don't right now."
"I—I don't know," says Liam, stumped. On some level he's aware that he's been doing it lately, but now that he thinks about it, maybe Louis's right. Maybe it's something he's always done, just occasionally.
"Is it 'cause you think we don't want you around?" Louis asks, prying, and Zayn says "Lou," quietly but Louis ignores him.
They've always kind of just accepted that Liam's a little bit different, that he prefers early nights to partying, that sometimes he worries too much, sometimes he actually likes sitting in his hotel room alone even though no one else does. And Liam's always told himself that's all it is, a personality difference and nothing more, but—maybe Louis has a point. Sometimes he does want to hang out with them but he feels like they don't want him there, and it's got nothing to do with the way they act because they've been wonderful and welcoming from day one but Liam can't help second-guessing it all every now and then, wondering if they really do like him as much as they say (as much as they like each other) when he's the least fun one.
"I don't know," says Liam again, because he doesn't want to lie, but it's too embarrassing to say yes, a little bit maybe, sometimes.
"Twat," says Harry fondly, reaching forward to try ruffle what's left of Liam's shorn hair. "How could you not know by now that we adore you?"
Liam scuffs his feet against the carpet. "I," he says, and then clears his throat and realises he doesn't know what else to say. All of this is weird and uncomfortable, and made even more so by recent events.
"We do, you know," Zayn assures him, his voice low. "Adore you and that."
"Yeah," Niall chips in, "no matter what."
"Um," Liam says awkwardly, not entirely sure where this is going. "Okay."
"It's true, we do like you rather a lot," Louis adds, grinning, and suddenly the atmosphere seems more lighthearted than confrontational, like he's flipped a switch. "Even when you're a bit dense and don't understand innuendo. Did you know that by 'slumber party' I didn't actually mean 'slumber party'?"
"I meant that other thing," Louis says casually. "You know, that thing that made you come instantly when you thought about it."
Liam flushes, and is left completely speechless, just sort of gaping at Louis like a fish. Louis gives him a smile that looks sort of—sympathetic, in a strange way, not the smirk that Liam was expecting, something much more soft and tender.
"Liam, it's okay," Niall says, coming in close and wrapping himself around Liam, nuzzling his shoulder. "We're actually gonna do this for you."
Liam is totally floundering. "W-what?"
"Is no one going to say it? I feel like someone should say it," says Harry thoughtfully, and then adds, "we're gonna gangbang you, Liam."
"Haz, please," says Zayn.
"What? I'm just using the proper terminology."
"I think by 'proper terminology' you mean 'what they call it in porn', love," Louis says fondly, tucking Harry under his arm and then looking back at Liam, sort of jutting his chin at him. "But yeah, we're gonna gangbang you."
Liam lets out a sudden little laugh of disbelief, and his face is burning up, and they're all just looking at him in this way that's making his legs a bit wobbly. They just look so—accepting, and loving, and Liam isn't really sure how to deal with it. It's fucking embarrassing to admit that this is something he actually wants, even if they're okay with it, it makes him feel vulnerable and exposed and—it's not something he's supposed to want, not something he's supposed to just accept even if it's being handed to him.
They go for him suddenly, clearly giving up on the idea that he's going to respond and deciding to take matters into their own hands—Louis grabs at his crotch right away and Liam's hips jerk. He's surrounded—there are hands pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it up over his head, and someone's kissing his neck, tonguing at it messily and making him squirm and stumble as he tries pathetically to fight back, or at least to look as if he's fighting back, because no matter how much he wants this he just can't admit it, can't let them know. Harry's palming him through his jeans now and his instinct is to try shove his hand away, because it's habit, because whenever things get like this the idea is to kick and shout and fight back, because that's how it's always been, because if it wasn't, things would be—weird.
But then, that's the point of this. They want to cross that line, now, so there's no need for any pretence, but even so Liam just can't bring himself to go still and let it happen. So he's thrashing, laughing and shouting out for them to stop, cut it out, ha ha very funny you weirdos, let me go—
—and they don't, because they know perfectly well what he's doing. They're laughing too, even as they're manhandling him, trying to get his clothes off him and pull him over to the bed, giggling and teasing like it's all a joke even though this time it's not. This isn't like the time they held him down and tickled him until he swore he was going to wet himself, or the time they tried to shove ice cubes down his boxers, or the time they pulled off half his clothes when they were in the middle of a Twitcam. Liam feels lightheaded suddenly, from all the movement and all the hands on him and the knowledge of what they want to do, and he shuts his eyes, breath catching suddenly in his throat. Instead of slapping away the hand that comes up to pinch his nipple he grabs hold of it instead and clings, making a little noise.
It's Louis, of course. It's always Louis where Liam's nipples are concerned. "Hey, it's all right. You want this, yeah?" Louis murmurs. His voice is so quiet that Liam thinks the others might not hear, as they're still fighting to get the rest of Liam's clothes off while he wriggles and writhes in their grip.
Liam hears himself say, "Yeah," in the tiniest voice. He's breathing so heavy and it sounds so loud and his heart feels like it's going to beat right out of his ribcage.
Louis overpowers the others and pushes Liam backwards onto the bed, and Liam struggles feebly as the rest of them immediately pin him there. He's spluttering out protests, and laughing even though none of this is funny, a nervous sort of laughter he can't control. He's so hot all over and when someone starts tugging at the waistband of his boxers he has to shut his eyes tight. He lets out a hysterical sort of sob, writhing pathetically, and Harry places a firm hand on his stomach to hold him still.
Everything stops abruptly.
"Hey, look at us," Niall whispers in the quiet, "we love you."
"I can't," Liam squeaks, "I think I'll die."
"Yeah, but you're gonna wanna know whose dick is inside you at some point, probably," Harry points out, and Liam groans, and very slowly lifts his eyelids.
Harry gives him a cheesy, toothy grin, and then a soothing pat on the tummy which makes Liam twitch, hypersensitive. He's starting to get hard already, just from all this, and it's embarrassing that that's all it takes. It's happened before during their group playfights and pigpiles and he's always put it down to proximity and body heat, but now he's wondering if a dormant part of him has always wanted this, to be surrounded by them and stripped—and held down and fucked, his brain adds, and he squirms, feeling his cock swell further at the thought. His instinct is to try hide the reaction, like he always would under more innocent circumstances, but of course he can't, not when he's being held still and Harry and Louis are pulling his boxers down.
Niall is crouched to his right and Liam turns to him, hiding his face in his thigh, breathing heavy and feeling all of their eyes on him. They've seen him naked before, obviously, dozens of times, but he can't try and tell himself this is in any way the same. He's reminded of the first time, back at the bungalow, when Harry decided it'd be a good ice-breaker if they all went skinny-dipping in the pool. Liam thought he was kidding at first, because his friends back home would never do something like that, but then Harry tore off his clothes and cannon-balled into the pool without shame, and Louis copied him immediately so as not to be upstaged, getting his kit off at the speed of light and taking a flying leap into the water. Niall and Zayn had dithered a bit but followed suit, bashfully avoiding eye contact as they quickly undressed and joined the others, and Liam had just stood there on the edge of the pool, bug-eyed and disbelieving, trying not to stare at the four naked bodies twisting about beneath the water.
They'd all egged him on, of course, cooing encouragement until eventually he broke, because he wanted so badly to be a part of whatever this was, whatever the five of them had the potential to be. He didn't want to be the one weak link, the stick in the mud; he wanted to be accepted. So he stripped off, as hurriedly and modestly as possible, as they all bobbed about in the pool and watched and cheered, and he remembers wondering what he was getting himself into as he kicked his discarded clothes into something resembling a pile and slid into the water. When they all beamed and hollered at him (and even when Harry tackled him, all naked and wet and making him recoil instinctively) Liam remembers feeling oddly triumphant.
"There you go," says Harry now, gently, and Liam squirms against the bed, feeling the sheets against his bare skin everywhere.
Right away he feels someone touch him, a confident hand curling around his cock, spit-slick and making him harder. His body jolts with it and Niall pets his hair and he tries to relax. It's just Louis, like before, he reminds himself, but—this feels so different, the others all around him, watching. He whimpers and he doesn't know if it's due to the steady pressure of Louis's fist or how overwhelming all of this is.
"You're doing so good," Niall murmurs, and Liam presses his face more firmly against Niall's thigh, feeling the rough denim of his jeans. The smell of him is comforting somehow and he's petting Liam's hair, trying to soothe him, his fingers gently stroking at his scalp. Liam tries to breathe normally but he thinks he's forgotten how.
"You're so hard," says someone, and it takes Liam a second to realise that it's Zayn, because his voice sounds so different, all hushed and awed, and quiet, like he didn't even mean to say it out loud at all.
Louis says, "Just wait 'til I've got my fingers in him," and Liam makes another noise, one that he means to sound indignant but comes out desperate instead. "See?" says Louis proudly. "He wants it so bad."
Liam tries to say Louis's name in a scolding sort of tone but then suddenly there are fingers brushing behind his balls, gentle and teasing, and Liam stutters, the word getting cut off.
"Hazza, can you stroke him for a bit while I—?" Liam hears Louis say, and there's a bit of shuffling around, the mattress joggling about beneath Liam's body as the two of them move.
A weight leaves the bed and Louis's hand is only gone for a second or two before Harry's replaces it. Liam is surprised by how different it feels—Harry's hand wraps around his cock more easily, and his skin's softer, and he's stroking Liam with intent, not in the slow, lazy way that Louis was. Liam wants to moan but can't, too embarrassed, and clamps his lips shut instead, fingers scrabbling against Niall's knee. Zayn makes a sort of soothing noise and pats him on the shoulder.
Liam feels the mattress dip and then Louis's voice says, loudly, "Have you still got your eyes closed? Christ, we may as well have blindfolded you."
Liam hesitantly opens one eye, and sees Louis looming over him, naked, grinning fondly and holding the bottle of lube that he's obviously fished out of Liam's bag.
"Wonder if you'd get off on that, too," Louis ponders out loud, the fond grin turning it into a bit of a smirk, and Liam turns to hide his face against Niall's leg again, squirming.
"Hey, stop it, don't make him come yet," Liam hears Louis say then, and Harry's hand leaves him. Liam aches a little at the loss of it—the unrelenting pleasure of Harry pumping his cock like that was distracting, making Liam's thoughts go sort of fuzzy so it was harder to panic.
Now someone's spreading his legs, easing his knees up and apart, and Liam feels his heart in his throat, beating wildly, making him feel a little sick. He can hear his own breathing and it sounds loud and erratic.
"Shh, it's okay," comes Zayn's voice from Liam's left. He reaches out and strokes his hand over Liam's forehead and it feels cool and calming against Liam's hot, sweaty skin.
Louis's touching him again, his fingers wet with lube and a little cold, and Liam gasps when he feels one of them teasing at his entrance, ever so gently nudging its way in. Liam opens up for him, his breathing going steadier—already, he's come to associate this feeling with relaxing, and as Louis's finger slowly fills him up he feels a bit calmer.
"Yeah," says Louis softly, exhaling, "there we go."
His finger slips out and pushes in again, and with each thrust Liam feels himself relaxing more and more. Louis's better, so much better at this than Liam is, and Liam realises he's been missing someone else's fingers all along, really needing them. He breathes out, tension slowly leaving his shoulders, and he lets himself flop back against the bed, no longer burying his face in Niall's legs. Louis makes encouraging noises and adds a second finger, and Liam finds himself nodding mindlessly, his eyes still closed, his chin pointing up at the ceiling. His cock is filling up even more against his stomach and he can feel the needy ache of it with every slide of Louis's fingers.
"Wow," says Zayn in that strange quiet voice again. "Wow, that's—look at him."
Liam feels himself blushing, feels a little nervous bubble of something in his chest when he reminds himself that they're all here, all watching, seeing him so exposed and vulnerable and getting off on having fingers in his arse but—it's hard to care too much when it feels so good, when Louis's curling his fingers just enough to brush that little bundle of nerves inside of him every now and then and send a shiver right through Liam's body.
"I've never seen you like this," Niall murmurs. "Thought Lou was exaggerating."
"Nope," says Louis, a little bit cocky, teasing around Liam's rim with the knuckle of a third finger.
"Wait, can I—?" asks Harry. Louis's fingers start to leave Liam but then Harry says, "No, I mean, as well. If he can take it."
"Oh, he can take it," Louis replies, and Liam can hear the smirk in his voice.
Liam tenses up a little when he feels a third slick fingertip probing at him, but Zayn squeezes his shoulder gently and he relaxes again, breathing deeply as Harry's finger squeezes in beside Louis's two. It feels strange for a moment, the difference in size and the lack of rhythm, but then they sync up and Liam's toes curl against the sheets, his back arching.
"Another?" Harry asks. "Can you, Liam?"
Liam isn't even sure he can speak, but he finds himself nodding again, automatically. He feels like he'd say yes to anything they want from him right now, just yes and more and please. There's little else going around his brain.
Harry's second finger really stretches him, but it doesn't hurt, he just feels—full, like he did from Louis's cock but it's different, the texture and the shape makes him feel like there's more inside of him than ever. He digs his fingers into Niall's knee as Harry and Louis fuck him with their fingers, clumsy and curious, seeing how he takes it.
"D'you want my cock now, Liam? Are you ready for it?" Louis asks after a moment, and his voice is all sweet and gentle, and Liam feels sure that he's showing off at this point, wanting the others to see what all of this reduces Liam to.
Liam makes a little noise of acquiescence, and then bites his lip as he feels their fingers slip back out of him.
"D'you wanna see me fuck him, Haz?" Louis asks, quieter now, and Liam recognises his tone of voice as the one that's meant just for Harry, that low whisper that the rest of them aren't supposed to hear but almost always do. "Yeah? You wanna see how much of a wreck I can make him?"
"Yeah," Harry breathes, "yeah, I wanna see. Can I go after?"
"Right after," Louis promises, and Liam shudders with anticipation, wondering how that'll feel. "Before he's had a chance to catch his breath."
Liam hears them kiss, then, messy and hungry. "Fuck, okay," Harry's voice sounds raw, eager. "Go on."
"Jesus," says Niall quietly from up near Liam's head, and he reaches down to touch Liam's hand where it's still clinging to his knee. "You sure you want this, Liam?"
Liam nods, emphatically, because even though his heart's pounding away like he's terrified and his mouth has gone dry he does. He really, really wants this. It's scaring him just how much. He concentrates on taking deep breaths as he listens to Louis preparing himself, and he thinks about the fact that they've done this before, remembers how amazing it was, soothes himself with the thought.
He feels Louis gently easing his legs up and he goes with it, exhaling shakily as Louis leans in close and he feels his cock nudge against him. It's hot and stiff and he can feel the pulse of it as it starts to push inside, and Liam calms further, concentrating on that feeling, the feeling of being stretched and filled ever so slowly. The room is so quiet and Liam can still feel everybody's eyes on him but it's a distant awareness now, dulled by the brighter, sharper sensation of Louis's cock spreading him open.
Louis guides himself in all the way and Liam feels him pressed close now, and he shifts, adjusting, letting his legs wrap around Louis's body just a little. He hears Niall swear quietly beside him, and then Louis asks, "You gonna open your eyes for me?"
Liam hesitates, still not sure if he can handle it, but—he didn't think he could handle any of this and he is, so far. He lets his eyelids flicker and open and the room comes back into view around him, Louis bowed over him and grinning cheekily, all flushed cheeks and sharp teeth, and Harry just behind, naked now, his hand resting possessively on Louis's lower back. He glances round, sees Niall and Zayn on each side of him, still dressed and looking almost as overwhelmed as he feels. It's scary, looking right into the others' eyes while this is happening, but it's a comfort, too, in a way he didn't expect. It settles him, makes him think he really can do this, because—because it's them. He can do anything with them by his side.
"You good?" Louis asks. "Ready?"
Liam manages an, "Uh huh," which comes out pretty weak and pathetic-sounding, and Louis smiles softly, his eyes crinkling as he gently starts to rock his hips. His cock shifts inside of Liam and Liam breathes in sharply, the pleasure of it even more intense than he remembered, better than anything else he's ever felt. Louis builds it up, gradually growing faster and deepening the thrusts until Liam's brain feels fuzzy and all of his nerves are tingling. Louis straightens up, holding Liam's thighs against his stomach, and drives his cock into him over and over, pulling Liam back onto it. It's like having an audience spurs him on, because Liam doesn't remember him fucking quite like this before, so quick and confident.
Liam wonders if he's still showing off for Harry's sake, maybe playing up to Harry's jealousy—he watches as Louis glances to the side, eyes twinkling as they meet Harry's. Harry's expression is dark and intense and he's just watching, taking it all in, his brow furrowed. Louis takes Liam's erection back in his hand, smoothing it over with the precome that's dripping from it, and Liam tenses suddenly, grabbing handfuls of the sheets under him.
"I want you to come, okay?" Louis tells him. "Want you to come now so you're proper relaxed for the others. Can you do that?"
Liam can't speak, but already he feels close, his whole body revelling in the feeling of getting fucked again after wanting it for what feels like so long.
"'Cause they're all gonna do this to you too," Louis goes on, teasing the tip of Liam's cock with his thumb like he's playing with him. "You're gonna take all four of us tonight, one after the other like you wanted. Four big cocks right in a row and you've got to relax for us, yeah? You've got to let us all in, 'cause we all wanna feel how hot and tight you are."
Liam feels like he's burning up, sure his cheeks must be crimson, but the words are pushing him even closer and Louis knows it, always knows the right buttons to press, even when they're buttons Liam didn't know he had. The others are just watching, silent and fascinated—stunned, Liam's sure, to see him this way.
"They all want a go on you, Liam," Louis teases, jerking him roughly now with quick flicks of his wrist, and his cock is sinking in deep and hitting that sweet spot and Liam shuts his eyes again and hears his breathing go wild like he's panting for it. "C'mon," Louis coaxes, "c'mon, almost there—"
Liam comes hard, and the spasms of it seem to last an age. His mind goes blissfully blank, and Louis has to keep milking it out of him 'til his whole hand is covered and Liam's stomach is drenched as well. When Liam comes down from it he's shivering, his hands numb from where he clenched his fists in the sheets so tight, and Louis's grinning at him like he's never seen anything better.
"Fuck," says Niall, "looks like you needed that, Liam."
He's struggling to get his jeans undone and Liam isn't sure where to look. Louis's fucking him slow now, easing him back into it, and Harry's closing in behind Louis on his knees, pressing his lips to his shoulder and then resting his chin there, watching. He won't really leave Louis alone, kissing his neck and murmuring things in his ear that Liam can't make out. It distracts Louis for a moment, makes his movements a little quicker and more jerky, but then he focuses himself, taking a hold of Liam's long legs and keeping them spread out in the air, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin under Liam's knees as he fucks into him. Louis was right, Liam's orgasm has relaxed him, but it's made him extra sensitive as well and the steady pressure of Louis's cock is sending him crazy.
When Liam looks back beside him Niall's got his fly open and his boxers pushed down, and his cock is poking out of his tight fist, firm and rosy-pink. Liam sort of gapes at it for a moment as it hits him that he did that, Niall's hard from watching him. Zayn shifts on Liam's other side and their eyes meet, and Zayn offers a smile that seems sort of tight. Liam realises then that he's the only one still fully-dressed, sweating through his t-shirt. He wonders anxiously if maybe Zayn's not as up for this as the others are, but then he notices how hard he is, his cock an obvious swelling in his jeans. He tries not to think about that, about the fact that before the night is over he'll have that cock inside of him, because it's just too much—he has to take this one step at a time.
Louis is laughing breathily and Liam glances back up at him to see that he's rolling his head to the side to let Harry suck a lovebite into his neck. His cock is still gliding in and out of Liam in fast easy strokes, even as he seems off in his own little world with Harry now. Liam doesn't feel ignored, exactly, as Louis fucks him almost mechanically and turns to kiss Harry with vigour, fingers tugging at his curls. It feels oddly familiar—the two of them using him to get at each other, that's something they've always done and Liam's never really minded—in a strange way it's always felt kind of special to be included in their insular little world.
"Are you gonna come?" Liam catches Harry whisper, rough and low against Louis's lips.
"Yeah," Louis's voice sounds high and tight and he's gripping a handful of Harry's hair, dark curls twined around his fingers, keeping Harry close. "Yeah, fuck."
"Do it, go on, fill him up. God, do it, Louis." Harry nips at Louis's earlobe and Louis falls forward, hand clutching Liam's waist and tightening there, and Liam feels it, the hot rush as Louis comes. Louis pulls out and Liam clenches up instinctively around the odd feeling, like he's both empty and full at the same time.
He does get a chance to catch his breath before Harry's turn, because Harry pulls Louis back and kisses him for a long moment. He's rocking against him and Liam sees that he's hard, rubbing up against Louis's hip. His cock is big, and Liam already knew that but never really considered in this context before, and he wonders how it'll feel and if it'll hurt and suddenly his nerves are all rushing back as he thinks about the fact that this is actually going to happen.
He's distracted by Zayn fumbling for something lost in the sheets and then Liam sees that he's holding out the lube, offering it to Harry. Liam's not actually sure he needs it, all slick inside from Louis's come, but he appreciates the gesture and offers Zayn a nervous smile.
Harry slicks his cock up quickly, and Liam can't take his eyes off it, how thick it looks even in Harry's large hands. Harry catches him watching and grins, bright and deceptively innocent, and then Louis's shuffling out of the way and Harry's taking his place between Liam's thighs. Liam lifts his legs instinctively, but Harry reaches down for his waist instead, pulling him up and turning him over onto his front. The movement causes Louis's come to start to slip out and Liam's face goes hot at the feeling as Harry arranges him how he wants him. There's something about this, being on all fours with come trickling down the inside of his thigh, that makes him simultaneously ashamed and turned on beyond belief, and he keeps his head ducked, confused and shying away from Niall and Zayn's eyes.
Then he feels Harry's fingers, cool and soft and dancing up his thigh, chasing the wet trail of Louis's come. Two of them open him back up easily, pushing and stretching, and Liam holds onto the sheets, the anticipation making him tremble. He's just thinking that it figures that Harry would tease him like this when suddenly the fingers are gone and replaced with the Harry's cock, heavy and huge and sinking in deep in one smooth thrust. Liam's breath stutters right out of him and he swears his vision almost whites out.
"He's bigger than me, isn't he?" Liam is vaguely aware of Louis saying then, when he comes back to earth, his voice sugary-sweet in his ear. "How does he feel?"
Liam can't even begin to find the words to describe it. Harry seems massive inside of him, so solid and thick, and Liam feels—full, just utterly full, and it's making it almost impossible to think.
"G-good," is all he manages in the end, and Louis kind of chuckles.
Harry draws back almost all the way, and Liam sucks in a breath that's punched right out of him again when Harry shoves back in harshly. Liam's cock twitches and a shiver runs down his spine. He doesn't think he could get hard again so soon after coming but he can feel himself trying, needing it, like he's still got more to give, and it's unbelievable.
"Harry," Louis admonishes, reaching to stroke Liam's back sympathetically. "Slow at first, yeah? Just because you like it rough doesn't mean everybody else does."
"I don't think he's complaining," Harry says in a sort of cheeky drawl, and does it again, that slow slide out and plunge back in, and Liam lets out a little involuntary sound this time as he's forced forwards on his hands and knees. "You like it, don't you?" Harry asks, sticky fingers wrapping around Liam's hips as he ups the ante, starting to pound into Liam without holding back at all.
"I'm fucking your come back into him," Harry says to Louis then, his voice low and almost ragged, and Liam clenches around him instinctively, biting his lip. Louis doesn't answer and Liam wonders if Harry's actually managed to stun him speechless.
It aches, the way Harry's just pummelling into him, but Liam knows he doesn't want him to slow down. It's just—making everything all the more intense, just on the very edge of being too much, and it's scary because Liam doesn't feel like he's in control at all, he feels like he's totally surrendering to Harry and he wonders if that's what Harry wants, wants to just get him to lose it and give in to the pleasure completely. He's pretty sure that's something about him that's always bothered Harry, the way he can't just go with his gut, the way he struggles to enjoy things fully sometimes because he can't get his brain to shut up.
"Tell me you like it," Harry says, voice low, and Liam can feel the incessant slap of his hips against his arse, the constant thick drag of his cock inside of him. It's making his cock start to fatten up again and he can't believe it, can't understand how it's possible. He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a helpless wail that he's too far gone to be embarrassed by, and he heaves his head up to see Niall staring at him, glassy-eyed, transfixed, his hand working his cock slick and fast.
"Liam, god, you're doing so good," Niall says and it comes out in a rush, his voice rougher than normal, gritty, and he cups Liam's chin to hold his head up as he presses a quick warm kiss to his forehead. Something about the contrast there, Niall's tender affection combined with Harry's ruthless pounding, makes Liam even harder and he grabs out and finds Zayn's thigh, grips it hard and holds on, whining. Harry just keeps at it, his hips snapping back and forth, cock slamming in deep.
Harry's rough thrusts are wracking his body and all Liam can do is take it, it's like he's paralysed from how good it feels, frozen stiff. The muscles in his arms are cramping from holding himself up and when Zayn shifts on the bed and moves a little closer, Liam drops his head into his lap gratefully, going down like a puppet getting its strings cut. Harry keeps Liam's arse in the air, his fingers biting into his hips and keeping him bouncing back onto his cock. Liam moans and the sound is muffled against the sweaty fabric of Zayn's jeans. His nose bumps against Zayn's erection through the denim and he hears Zayn breathe in sharply, but he barely registers it; everything feels hot and electric and his whole body is starting to tremble.
He clings to Zayn's thigh with one hand and the sheets with the other, stops trying to think and just feels, feels the thick hot shape of Harry's cock spreading him wide and fucking him raw, the rough denim of Zayn's jeans rubbing against his face and the damp heat of his own breath. His cock is bouncing up against his stomach repeatedly now and before he even knows what's happening he's coming again—shaking all over and crying out feebly, spurting onto the sheets as Harry keeps going, rocking Liam's body back and forth.
Harry fucks him right through it, until Liam's cock is just barely dripping, and then he slows gradually, leaning over him and rolling his hips gently. He comes a moment later and Liam's not sure he'd even notice except that he bites Liam's shoulder as he does it, hard. Liam feels the pulse of his come, and then Harry's licking out over the mark he's left, and his tongue feels oddly cool and soothing against Liam's fever-hot skin.
Harry pulls out gently and Liam feels oversensitised and bewildered, his whole body heavy and loose.
"Fucking hell, Haz," says Louis, finding his voice and sounding equal parts impressed and taken aback. "Liam, you okay?"
Liam mumbles something and tries to roll over, but can only flop down onto his side. The sheets are sticky and so's his chest and his stomach, and it's even worse between his legs, Harry and Louis's come beginning to drip out of him, making him squirm. It feels like—it feels like they're claiming him, filling him up and making him theirs, and the thought is too much to process. Zayn's hand smoothes over his forehead and Liam pushes into the touch appreciatively, making little incoherent sounds.
"Hmm," considers Louis. "Let's put it this way: can you still take two more?"
Liam whimpers at that. His mind is hazy, but he knows he doesn't want them to stop, doesn't want this to be over even though he's sore and exhausted. His legs are together, curled in, but now he splays them out, turning his arse up in answer.
"Liam, Christ. I've created a monster." Louis sounds awed. "Go on then, who's next?"
Liam tunes out for a moment and then realises that Niall's there, naked and pale and wedging himself in behind Liam's thighs, stroking him reassuringly.
"Liam, you're so amazing, you're—this is amazing," Niall says, quiet and sincere, leaning down to kiss Liam's hot cheek. "I'll go slow, okay? Tell me if it's too much."
"Uh huh," Liam manages, and Niall straightens back up. The mattress judders and Louis settles down next to them, budging Zayn over. Harry joins them, flopping his head down into Louis's lap. Louis's fingers card through his sweaty curls and Harry sighs happily, looking angelic as he smiles lazily back at Liam like he wasn't fucking him like an animal just moments ago.
"I assume you're gonna get out of those clothes at some point, Malik," says Louis, and Liam glances up to see that, though he's unzipped his fly now to relieve some of the pressure on his erection, Zayn's still fully dressed. "Unless you're planning to fuck Liam through your pants."
"Shut up," is Zayn's only response, and Louis looks at Liam and shrugs, grinning.
Niall presses the flat of his hand to Liam's arse, spreading him open a little more and gently dipping his thumb inside to feel just how wet he is. "God," he groans quietly, before fitting his cock there instead. It goes in smooth and easy but Liam is so tender that he's hyperaware of every inch, and when Niall starts to fuck him, little shallow bucks of his hips, Liam whimpers pathetically. It's good, so good, just intense, and he feels somehow more on display than he did before with the other three right here in front of him so he can see them watching. His eyes slide shut because the way they're looking at him is starting to make him feel prickly and hot, and Niall curves a sure hand over Liam's hip and starts to pick up speed.
He doesn't pull out too far, stays deep, rocking and grinding against the swell of Liam's arse and keeping him full.
"You feel so good," he murmurs, and Liam smiles sleepily. "God, you're just. You're so. I wish you could see yourself."
Liam doesn't even want to think about how he must look—totally ravaged, probably—and he squirms, shaking his head a little.
"No, you look gorgeous," Niall insists, his voice a little breathy and unsteady as he continues to rut against Liam, his cock dragging shallowly back and forth inside him. "You look so—happy, and your arse, jesus, you're just—you're so pink and wet and open..."
Liam squirms again, more violently this time, and Niall has to hold him still, fingertips pressing into the skin of his hip. His face feels hot and he turns it into the sheets.
"Dirty mouth, Niall," Louis observes, tutting. "You're making him blush."
Niall chuckles and starts to go at him a little harder, spreading his other hand out at the base of Liam's spine and thrusting more quickly, moaning. Liam's toes curl at the sound and he grasps hold of the sheets.
"God, he's so—eager," Zayn says then, so quiet Liam almost misses it, and it's only then that he realises he's moving back to meet Niall's thrusts, grinding back against his hips to take him back in deep every time he starts to ease out. He's embarrassed but he can't make himself stop; it's like his body's moving of its own accord, just wanting more.
"Yeah. Fuck." Niall shifts, pushing Liam's thigh forward just a little to tilt his arse up further, and the change of angle gets him grazing Liam's prostate every few thrusts. Liam shudders involuntarily but then Niall goes all slow and shallow again and Liam lets out a little frustrated noise before he can help himself, wriggling back into the cradle of Niall's hips. He's too worn out to do it properly, to fuck himself on Niall's cock, but he tries, weakly shifting his hips back against Niall and riding against him.
"Liam, can you—I just wanna see—" Niall murmurs, and then Liam feels a fingertip stroking around his rim, teasing and touching where he's being filled. Liam goes still instantly and feels it slip in, and it's so quick and easy that Niall moans out, "God, Liam," and Liam shivers at the sound of his name being said like that. Niall tries a second finger and this time Liam really feels the stretch of it, and it feels strange but good and he realises he'd even let Niall put a third in if he wanted to. He'd let him do anything.
"Fucking hell," Louis swears, watching, "Liam, you're—you're being so fucking good."
Liam whimpers as Niall starts in on him again, speeding up, fucking him with his cock and his fingers at the same time. His thrusts are uneven and wild and he's kneading at the skin of Liam's thigh with his other hand.
"God, look at him taking it," Louis goes on, his voice breathy, "god, I bet—I bet he could take two of us at the same time."
Liam lets out a shocked little sound and tenses up, and Niall groans long and low and comes suddenly, digging his fingernails into Liam's thigh. He rides it out and stays inside even when it's over, and Liam feels faint and a bit like the room is spinning until Niall leans down over him and nuzzles his cheek. Their noses brush together and Niall looks smiley and sated, and a little bit sheepish. His hair is sticking up in odd directions with sweat and his cheeks are spotted pink.
"Are you okay?" he whispers, and kisses Liam's chin when Liam nods.
Niall straightens up and carefully slides out, and Liam hears him hiss quietly to himself.
"He's all yours," he says to Zayn then, and Liam wonders vaguely if that means he's gonna have to move. He lies there in a bit of a daze, watching out of the corner of his eye as Zayn sheds his clothes, still distantly wondering why he kept them all on until now. Niall takes Zayn's place beside the others, slumping on Louis's shoulder and snuggling up close.
Zayn clambers back onto the bed and Liam smiles sleepily at him in greeting, but Zayn looks oddly serious, intent. He moves in close and turns Liam over gently, rolling him onto his back and then hitching him a little further up the bed so his head rests properly against the pillows, and Liam sprawls out, sighing at the cool feel of the sheets against his hot skin. He wiggles his hips a bit, trying to get comfortable—he feels so hot and sticky between his legs, this slight dull ache, but he also feels empty, and despite the soreness he still finds himself waiting impatiently for Zayn to fill him back up.
He wishes he could say so, because Zayn is taking his time, getting Liam settled around him. Liam whimpers pathetically because he's not sure he has the muscle strength to keep his legs up anymore, but once Zayn's got his cock lined up he hooks his arms under Liam's knees and holds them up for him. Liam is a little worried that he might be kind of disgusting by now, loose and too wet, but he watches Zayn's face as he begins to slide in slowly and he looks like—like this is the best thing he's ever felt. He doesn't guide himself, his hands too busy curling around Liam's thighs and holding him close, and Liam shudders, so sensitive now that it almost hurts. He can feel his eyes pricking with tears, but he nods weakly, and Zayn goes slow, so slow it's torturous, drawing carefully back out of him before letting himself glide in again.
He leans in, hands flat against the mattress either side of Liam's shoulders as he pushes as deep as he can go and stays there, eyes closed, forehead pressed to Liam's as he breathes in shakily. Liam squirms a little under him from the pressure of his cock so solid and still, and Zayn opens his eyes, stares right into Liam's as he begins to fuck him, hips rocking back and forth slow, making sure Liam feels the whole length of his cock driving in and out. Liam shudders again, barely able to take the way Zayn's staring at him so intensely. His mouth falls open as Zayn churns his hips and finds Liam's prostate, nudges firmly against it and makes Liam gasp.
"Can you get hard again, Li?" Zayn asks, his voice low and serious, barely a murmur, like this isn't for anyone else to hear. "I want to make you come."
Liam's toes curl tightly and he draws up a fistful of the sheets in his hand. There's no way, he thinks, shaking his head, but he can feel his cock starting to swell up already, as if on command. When Zayn drags over his prostate again he cries out loud, and holds onto him instead of the sheets, one hand curling round the back of Zayn's neck and the other around his skinny waist. Zayn picks up the pace and all Liam can do is cling to him, his eyes welling up. He feels strangely small, curled up under Zayn like this, limbs draped all over him, fingers clutching him tight.
The persistent deep press of Zayn's cock inside is so good Liam feels almost doped up on it, only realises he's smiling when his cheeks start to ache. His face is wet with tears and he's exhausted, drained, completely fucked-out, and yet he feels like he doesn't want Zayn to ever stop fucking him. He runs his fingers over the soft hair at the nape of Zayn's neck, and Zayn leans in close again, close enough for Liam to bury his face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Liam inhales deeply, the familiar comforting smell of Zayn's favourite cologne mixed with his sweat, and he sighs out contentedly, wrapping himself more tightly around him.
Zayn eases back a little. "You good?" he murmurs.
"Yeah," Liam gets out, gasping, and Zayn moves back in. When their lips meet it happens so easily and naturally that it takes Liam a second to process, but there's nothing he wants more than just to go with it, part his lips for Zayn's tongue, and the kiss is salty and deep, slow and languid, and Liam feels like it could go on forever.
His cock is throbbing, caught between their stomachs and slicking their skin, and when Zayn pulls back and straightens up Liam thinks he's going to reach for it but he doesn't, instead shifting Liam's legs so that they're hooked over his shoulders and then leaning right back in, pinning Liam's thighs to his stomach and shoving his cock so deep it makes Liam tremble.
"Okay?" Zayn breathes, still watching him closely.
Liam nods, unable to speak, and Zayn draws out and slams in again with another harsh heave of his hips. Zayn kisses his neck, licks along a vein there and Liam turns his head, and it's only then that he's reminded of their audience, the other three sitting silent and watchful beside them. There's something in their faces that seems different, something about the way they've gone quiet like they don't want to disturb, but Liam is too out of it to give it any more thought. He feels a buzzing in the base of his spine as his erection rubs between his own thighs and against Zayn's stomach, and Zayn kneels up straight again, knowing what Liam needs, spreading his legs and taking his cock in hand. Liam's body jerks at the firmness of the touch, his skin feeling raw and hot under Zayn's palm. Zayn finds a rhythm, fucking him and stroking him in tandem, until Liam is almost thrashing under him with how intense it feels. Zayn holds him steady, working his cock relentlessly until Liam's orgasm is ripped from him and he clings desperately to Zayn's hips, spilling weakly over Zayn's fist and letting out a helpless, choked sob.
His body is tingling so much in the aftermath that he's just on the verge of going totally numb, maybe even passing out, but then Zayn's running two fingers through the mess of come on Liam's quivering stomach and tucking them between his own lips, tongue rolling over and between to gather the taste. Liam stares and shakes and clenches so tight around Zayn's cock that Zayn comes too, like he can't help it, suddenly letting out a sharp gasp and going rigid. Liam is transfixed, gazing at him, at his parted lips and fluttering eyelashes, but just as quickly as his orgasm came, it's over, and Zayn's pulling out and slumping back, his chest heaving and a look on his face that Liam can't read.
Liam goes limp without Zayn keeping him up, his limbs spreading out until he's in a sort of starfish shape. He lies there for a long moment, still reeling, until the sheets are uncomfortably wet beneath him and he becomes slowly aware of the come leaking out from between his open, trembling thighs.
"Oh god," he mutters. "Oh, god."
He starts to roll over, to curl into a tight ball, but Louis stops him, leaping into action and pulling him into a cuddle instead.
"No no," he says firmly. "None of that."
He overpowers him easily, because Liam is incredibly weak right now, and Liam hides his face in Louis's shoulder, shaking and hot and sore.
Louis holds him tight, kisses the top of his head gently. "Liam, Liam, it's okay, yeah? That was amazing. You're amazing. Unbelievable. Awesome. Fantastic. Ridiculously fucking incredible."
The others chip in, echoing the sentiment, and Liam's face burns but he can't help smiling at the praise, feeling dizzy and out of it, somehow ashamed and proud at the same time.
"Haz, fetch us a flannel and some water, okay?" Louis murmurs, and strokes Liam soothingly, smoothing his hands over Liam's body. In fact, Liam can feel several hands doing that, so he assumes Zayn and Niall have joined in as well.
Harry returns from the bathroom and Liam buries his face further into Louis's shoulder when he feels someone gently mopping between his legs. It feels amazing, actually, the cool soft cloth where he's so hot and sore, but it's embarrassing. He's too dazed to be properly mortified, to worry about the noises he made and the way his body begged for more, but he still feels vulnerable and exposed. He should want to hide from them, he thinks, but instead he wants to cling, keep them closer. Louis gently eases him onto his back again so they can wipe the come off his tummy and his thighs, and then Zayn's coaxing him to sit up, proffering a little plastic cup of water.
Zayn looks so loving and Liam feels a wave of something cresting somewhere in his belly, a dizzy sort of adoration for all of them, the way they love and trust and accept him unconditionally. He doesn't know what you're supposed to do with something like that, it feels like he could be crushed under the weight of it and it's scary, but at the same time he wants to cling to it and make sure it never goes away.
"Liam, c'mon," Zayn says softly, grounding him, "have a drink."
Liam obeys, partly because his throat does feel a bit dry but mostly because of the gesture, because of the way it feels like they're all taking care of him, making sure he's okay. He supposes that's what all of this was, really, and his eyes start welling up again. He usually tries not to let the others take responsibility for him, because he's always had this strange determination to be the strong one, to not need anything from them, to not depend on them for too much because he knows it could get dangerous when half the time they're all he has. But now he knows how good it feels to put everything in their hands and he just wants more, wants to just lie here and let them look after him, wants to glut himself on their care and their love.
"Li-am," Niall sing-songs gently. "Liam, we love you." He clambers over Louis and snuggles into Liam's side. "Hope you can walk tomorrow."
Liam laughs hoarsely, remembering the busy day ahead. He's going to be sore, that's for certain, but he remembers how he felt the first few days after the first time with Louis, how strangely refreshed and relaxed he was. The others' teasing had made him nervous, of course, but for a little while work had seemed so much easier without the tension locked in his muscles and the miserable thoughts in his mind. He can only hope that tomorrow will be like that times four.
Louis finds a clean patch of the flannel and dabs gently at Liam's face with it, cleaning away the sweat and the tear tracks. "God, you look wrecked," he says fondly, caressing Liam's blotchy cheeks. "You're gorgeous."
He takes the flannel and the cup back into the bathroom and Harry and Zayn crowd in around Liam, cuddling in close. Liam needs that right now. It should be uncomfortable when his whole body is overheated and aching, but he wants the others as close as they can be.
"D'you think we'd all fit in that shower?" Louis asks as he comes back into the room, pointing back over his shoulder. "It looks pretty big."
"I don't wanna shower," says Liam, and doesn't recognise his own voice for a second, it sounds so croaky. "I wanna sleep."
Louis laughs, but clambers onto the bed anyway, joining them in their sticky huddle. "Flannels can only do so much, love. If we sleep now we might all wake up stuck together."
Liam's last thought before his eyes drift shut is that he might not actually mind that so much.