Archive of Our Own ^beta

The last place Louis expected himself to be on a Thursday night was “The Rogue,” aka the most prestigious strip club in SoHo, but after weeks of Zayn shoving invites down his throat and insisting “It’s not a strip club Lou, it’s a Burlesque!”, he eventually caved and has found himself walking into the theatre-esque building. Zayn told him to dress ‘classy,’ as the invite-only club has a strict dress code, so he put on his best black trousers and grey blazer that hugs his small waist, accentuating the curve of his hips and ass, his usual fluffy fringe styled back into a lazy quiff. 

The second he walks in he’s overwhelmed with the stench of expensive cologne and cigars, mostly radiating off the doorman who approaches him with a clipboard. “Name?” He gruffs, not once looking up from the list, “Oh, uh, I was invited by a friend, I think he’s a mem-” “ His name?” The bouncer cuts him off, clearly too impatient to hear Louis stutter out his response. “Zayn Malik,” at the mention of the name the man’s entire demeanor changed, a warm smile replacing his grumpy frown. “Ah, Malik! Great lad.” He picks up a name tag and hands it to Louis along with a thick marker, “Write your name down and please, make yourself comfortable,” He instructs whilst unclipping the cliche velvet rope. Louis scribbles his name on the paper and sticks it on, nodding his thanks to the doorman and strolling inside the main room. 

The club looked like a regular bar on one side of the room, the counter stretching along the entire wall filled with bottles and bottles of liquor. The other half of the room resembled a genuine theater; with rows of seats facing the three stages, though the seats were more like couches rather than chairs. Each stage had a pole in the center that went all the way up to the ceiling, the top part hidden behind the curtains framing the stage. The venue itself was very fancy, dark colors and warm lights making the atmosphere all the more erotic, and the employees walked around with trays of bubbling liquid, presumably champagne. Louis gingerly takes a glass off one, muttering his thanks to the cute blonde, who winks in response. As he sips the sweet drink, his eyes peer over the glass and skim the room, looking for a place to sit and land on an empty couch at the front row of the second stage.

He’s not entirely sure which stage is best, but the first one is occupied by an ebony-haired woman who is halfway up the pole spinning around in graceful movements while her audience ogles her, so maybe he isn’t missing out on much. Zayn had mentioned the best performances started at 11 pm, and it’s currently 10:45, so perhaps he could kill some time responding to his emails. 

After almost an hour of fiddling with his phone and half-heartedly watching the dancers on the first stage, Louis startles when the lights on the stage in front of him suddenly flash on, reflecting off the long pole in the center, and the audience erupts in whistles and cheers before going back to the buzz of conversations. If the flash of light wasn’t enough for Louis to be interested, the reaction of the club was. He quickly checks the time before aimlessly setting his phone down on the small table to his right and swiftly takes one of the programmes spread out there, flipping to the page that shows the names and time of all the dancers on the second stage, finding the performance for 11:30 pm. 

In bold, hot pink letters reads ‘Baby Honey: Earned It.’

It’s magic, how fast the crowd goes silent when the lights dim, all eyes on the second stage as if they’ve been waiting all night for this performance. Louis is in awe. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he gradually gets more intimidated by this mysterious ‘Baby Honey’, who obviously must be either really talented, or really hot, especially if they’re able to garner the attention an entire crowd of rowdy, drunk men with the flick of a light- literally- and Louis is front row. He doesn’t know whether to feel lucky or cursed about his seating choices. How was he to know out that of the three stages, the one he chose to sat by happened to be the stage the club’s most popular dancer would be using? His thoughts are cut off by the slow, quiet intro, music echoing around the room.

“I'ma care for you

I'ma care for you, you, you, you”

Louis’ breath hitches when he sees him, and he gets it. He gets why the club is so popular, he gets why the world stops, and he gets why Zayn insisted Louis needed to go to a strip club (“It’s a Burlesque, you fool”) at 11 pm on a Thursday… Because ‘Baby Honey’ is gorgeous. Long, smooth legs leading up to a toned stomach and broad shoulders, the brightest green eyes and plump lips as sweet as sugar, topped off with the prettiest head of chocolate curls, luscious and long, just brushing his collar bones. His soft, pale skin is adorned in tattoos, which are displayed under the glittery, mesh jumpsuit draped across his slender body.  

He walks in a slow sway like he knows all eyes are on him, making his way to the silver pole and wrapping one hand around it, showing off his baby pink nails and many rings. He stands there in the few seconds of silence, looking at all his admirers under his eyelashes, seductively, almost as if he’s counting, before emerald meets aquamarine, and ‘Baby Honey’ has found his prey for the night. 

“You make it look like it's magic

'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you

I'm never confused

Hey, hey

I'm so used to being used”

Louis leans back in his seat while he watches the dancer’s smooth movements, mouth dry and pants tight at the way ‘Baby Honey’ never breaks eye-contact as he graciously twirls around the pole and mouths along to the scandalous lyrics like he’s talking to Louis, and each of these details burn under Louis’ skin as he tries to focus on the beautiful dance and not the almost painful erection pressed up against the zip of his ever-tightening jeans. Too nervous to adjust himself with the way he’s being stared at, Louis tried to subtly shift in his seat while keeping eye contact in hopes his constant fidgeting will be unnoticed, but of course ‘Baby Honey’ catches it, and then it becomes a game. He spins his muscular legs around the pole to be upright and slides down until he’s in a crouch, straightening his legs and slowly rising, arching his back to show off his cute peach of an ass. He peeks over his shoulder in time to see the man with the blue eyes and sharp cheekbones shudder, a hand over his crotch unconsciously palming himself, and watches him lose it when he grinds against the pole, lips parting in an obscene gasp.

“So I love when you call unexpected

'Cause I hate when the moment's expected

So I'ma care for you, you, you

I'ma care for you, you, you, you, yeah”

Louis nearly comes in his pants like a damn teenager watching ‘Baby Honey’ practically fuck the pole all the while staring him down, he pries his hand away from his aching cock, crossing a leg over his knee and drumming his fingers against the arm of his chair. He’s never wanted a song to end so fast, yet at the same time, he hope it lasts forever. Endless ideas of all the things he wants to do to the curly-haired man cloud his thoughts, though the nagging feeling of jealously cuts through when he remembers that his existence means nothing to the dancer, and when the performance ends, he may never see ‘Baby Honey’ again, or at least not until he comes back next week. Louis isn’t a monster, he won’t be mad if the gorgeous man isn’t interested, why would the god-of-a-man want anything to do with him? He could have anybody he wants, so why settle for someone who can barely hold himself together just watching someone dance? Not to mention- in a crowd full of people. Although it is probably the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life, by far. He just hopes that ‘Baby Honey’ stays around long enough for Louis to talk to him and introduce himself. And maybe kiss his feet while profusely thanking him for the wank material for the next few weeks.. and months. Louis doesn’t have time to think of other ways to worship the dancer when said person is smoothly strutting towards Louis’ couch, the spotlight following him and illuminating his curls in a halo around his face, sweet green eyes sparkling down at Louis, who is frozen and staring wide-eyed back up at the chiseled features. ‘Baby Honey’ simply smiles, dimples popping out, and uncrosses Louis’ leg to straddling his thighs, giggling at the stunned expression covering the man’s features. Louis can barely hear the large crowd behind him break out into whistles over the sound of blood rushing in his ears as he stares up at the beautiful man that has stolen his heart. ‘Baby Honey’ leans in close and softly sings the chorus in Louis’ ear, his long curls tickling the other man’s cheek as he begins to circle his hips down, lightly grinding against him.

“'Cause girl, you're perfect

You're always worth it

And you deserve it

The way you work it

'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah

Girl, you earned it, yeah”

The scent of roses and warmth fill Louis’ senses while he listens to the lovely deep timbre of ‘Baby Honey’s voice and he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch, so he white-knuckles the arms of the chair to keep from ruining his own personal heaven. The comfortable weight of the man in his lap making him all the more aware of his dick, which seems to have gotten harder, if possible, which would be embarrassing if ‘Baby Honey’ wasn’t grinding against him and running his long fingers through his hair. Louis is shocked at how he’s managing to hold off through all this, all his focus on not touching must be helping, but the dancer seems intent on making Louis ruin his pants which- what the hell. Louis practically gasps out “Can I touch you?” and ‘Baby Honey’ pauses for a second, but nods as he runs his soft hands down the latter’s tense arms. Louis groans high in his throat and hesitantly moves his hands to ‘Baby Honey’s thighs, feeling the soft fabric stretched over softer skin and he tenses, burying his face in the man’s shoulder and he comes the hardest he ever has. “Shit, baby - fuck!” Louis curses and his grip on the other’s legs tightens, making ‘Baby Honey’ smile, pleased at making the handsome and controlled man lose his composure and he continues dancing, keeping the crowd entertained while distracting them from the man beneath him. ‘This one is mine,’ he smugly thinks to himself and he keeps running his hands through the soft caramel hair as Louis pulses hot into his pants, his grip now on ‘Baby Honey’s waist as he breathes in his scent, memorizing every perfect detail about this man. 

“Yeah, yeah

'Cause girl, you're perfect

The way you work it

You deserve it

Girl, you deserve it

Girl, you earned it, yeah, yeah”

By the time Louis comes down the song is already over and he sheepishly looks up at the dancer still in his lap who is blowing kisses to the audience in response to the roar of cheers. He glances down at Louis and smirks at the grip on his ass. Louis notices his hand placement and moves them to rest back on ‘Baby Honey’s thighs, making the curly-haired boy laugh, “Oops,” he jokes, “...Hi,” Louis says dumbly, looking up at him like has all the stars in his eyes, and the dancer laughs again. “You have such a way with words,” he teases and looks at his name tag “Louis.” Louis chokes out a laugh, snapping out of his daze, “Yeah, yeah, it just comes naturally when you’re this charming,” he gestures to himself, and ‘Baby Honey’ beams at the banter, he loves when guys can laugh at themselves. “Totally. I’m Harry, by the way,” he responds in the same joking manner. “Harry,” Louis repeats, the name feeling like candy in his mouth. “So, Harry , you reckon you could help clean the mess you made?” He glances his eyes down, and Harry laughs again before nodding and leans closer, locking eyes with Louis again and whispers in his slow drawl. “You earned it.” 

Louis rolls his eyes but chuckles anyway and Harry climbs off his lap and holds out his hand, Louis takes it and is hauled up and away from his chair, barely managing to snatch his phone before he’s dragged to a set of doors behind the stage. Harry is still clutching his hand while using his other to punch in a code on the door, which makes a beeping sound and unlocks. Harry pulls the door open and nudges Louis to enter first. Inside is a hallway with multiple doors along each wall, “Ahhh, and these are the dressing rooms, I suppose?” Louis queries and Harry shrugs with a sneaky smile. “Close,” is all he says before leading the shorter man to one of the rooms with a large hand on the small of his back, and Louis now notices the height difference between them, Harry having a least 3 inches on him. Harry walks into the room first this time, with Louis on his tail and the second the door shuts Louis is pressed up against the door by the dimpled prince. Louis quirks an eyebrow at the sudden movement, “And what do you think you’re doing, Curly?” He sasses, and Harry continues to stare at him akin to a wolf staring down a doe, running his eyes up and down the body he has pinned down before dropping to his knees and fumbling with Louis’ belt, popping the button and sliding the zipper down, and Louis feels like his heart could stop at any second. Harry yanks his jeans and pants over his ass and down his legs, stopping to remove his shoes before pulling both articles of clothing off entirely. He plucks out Louis’ now ruined pants and stares up at the man, making sure he’s watching when he giggles “Messy boy,” and brings the wet patch to his mouth and sucking lightly. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Louis rasps at the sight, his half-hard dick twitching as it fills up completely, Harry’s glassy eyes gauging the movement as he tosses the pants to the side and stands on his knees, hands landing on Louis’ hips before his fingers sneak up under his shirt and back over his ass, squeezing the flesh as he moans “I’ve been waiting to taste you all night.” 

And Louis snaps, his blue eyes darken with lust and he yanks the man up and pushes him back toward the bed at the side of the room, figuring out what these rooms are used for as Harry falls back against the bed, a pretty blush covering his cheeks and big green eyes staring up at him. 

“Off,” Louis demands, gently pulling at the jumpsuit, and Harry flips over on his tummy, revealing the zipper that runs down the length of his back, Louis leans over to pull the zipper down, his heavy arousal pressing against Harry’s bum, making him whine as Louis runs his palms over the soft skin finally revealed. “So pretty, baby,” He groans, and Harry turns back around to pull off the thin jumpsuit, watching Louis remove his blazer and pull the white button-down up and over his head, further messing up his hair in the process. He tosses the shirt to the side and climbs on top of the panty-clad beauty spread out over the bed, Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and pulls him down into a heated kiss, both of them sighing at the feel of the other’s mouth, tongues moving hotly together, and Louis grinds against him, the material of the panties being the only thing separating them. Harry whimpers through a gasp “Louis, please,” “What do you need, baby?” Louis asks while licking the expanse of the other’s throat, and Harry reaches his arm out towards the table next to the bed with an assortment of lube and condoms, “Need you, please,” he whines. “So polite,” Louis teases as he stands to grab a condom and bottle of lube, walking back to the bed and crouching to pull Harry’s panties down his long legs, following the fabric with kisses. He leans back up to press a chaste kiss to Harry’s swollen lips, then pops the cap of the bottle and squeezes a generous amount on his fingers. Louis watches raptly when Harry pulls his knees up to his chest, presenting himself, and Louis takes the invitation to begin circling his rim with one finger, slowly pressing in to his knuckle, watching Harry’s blissed-out expression. Breathing heavily, Louis begins to pump his finger, adding a second and curling them up toward his tummy, making the beautiful boy cry out.

“More, more, please, I need-” he chokes out when Louis adds a third finger, brushing his prostate every other thrust and making Harry moan loudly. After a while, Harry becomes more restless, grinding his ass back against Louis’ fingers with constant whines leaving his lips. Louis finally pulls out his fingers, deeming him ready, and slides the condom on and popping the cap of the lube again, spreading more on his painfully hard cock, hissing at the cold. He leans over Harry and lines up while murmuring in his ear “Want it so bad, yeah?” Harry frantically nods, trying to fuck himself on Louis’ dick, not noticing the tight grip on his hips preventing him from doing so. Louis continues, “been teasing me all night, making me come in my pants like some kid,” he pushes in, stopping halfway, much to Harry’s displeasure, making him moan in frustration at not being full enough. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” Louis nips his earlobe, “Say it,” he demands, not moving. “Yeah, ‘m a little slut,” Harry rushes out and all but screams when Louis finally snaps his hips, slamming his prostate dead on. Louis moans loudly at the tight heat, pressing in and out at a fast pace, swallowing the sounds being forced out of the man beneath him. Louis slows his hips when tears start running down the curly hair’s cheeks, kissing them away and brushing his soft hair out of his face, “Good?” He checks, not wanting to overwhelm Harry, who loudly wails “So good, don’t stop!” And Louis pulls one of his legs over his shoulder and continues his brutal pace, both of them moaning at the new angle, Louis slamming inside Harry over and over. He reaches for Harry’s neglected cock, which is swearing precome all over his butterfly tattoo, and pumps it three times before Harry brokenly shouts “Oh god, Louis!” and shoots pearly white all up his chest, specks reaching his neck. His walls clench Louis’ dick like a vice as he fucks him through his release before pulling out and yanking off the condom to come on Harry’s stomach with a long moan, adding to the mess. Louis flops down next to a sated and smiley Harry and pulling him in his arms, kissing the top of his head as he nuzzles into Louis’ chest.

They lay in silence for a while, both of them trying to catch their breath, and Harry pulls back a little to run a finger through the mess of come on his tummy, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean, his eyes fluttering shut. Louis makes a noise of pain and yanks his finger out of his mouth and crashing their lips together, tasting both of them on Harry’s tongue, it’s vile and Louis can’t get enough. They finally pull away and Harry goes to stand but is stopped by a hand on his wrist, a wide-eyed Louis staring at up at him confused. “I’m just getting a towel, love,” he smiles sweetly at the blue-eyed man who visibly relaxes at the words. Harry swipes the towel over Louis’ sensitive dick, making him flinch, then wipes himself off, placing the towel in a basket and crawling back on the bed, wrapping the smaller beau in his arms. Both are silent, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. They pass out easily surrounded in one another. 

When Harry wakes up he’s alone, and his heart nearly breaks, but then he sees the note left on the bedside table. He giggles as he reads the scribbled handwriting and he can’t help but fall a little more for the perfect stranger.

“Harry,

I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye, someone knocked and said I had to go and you looked too sweet to wake up. 

I had a great time & I hope I can see you again, Baby Honey

- Louis

p.s. Here’s my #, I think you ‘earned it’ ;)”