Yep, I'm a sucker for these little stories and there are so many of them around. Not great literature but takes my mind off the news. My only editing was fixing some grammar and punctuation . . .
FanFic Ross Lynch & Harry Styles
"You hiding from me again, Rossie?" Harry's voice echoed through the stadium hallway, his words bouncing off the concrete walls like a pinball machine gone haywire. Ross's heart was racing. He peeked around the corner, his eyes scanning for any sign of stagehands or roadies who might be hanging around.
Satisfied that they were the only two there, Ross yelled, "Hazza, you fucker, come out now."
"Or what?" Harry called back. They both liked this game of hide-and-seek. The fact that they had to keep it hidden, and that it happened only once or twice a year, made it even more thrilling.
Harry emerged from the shadows on stage left. The torn concert pants clung to his hips like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. As the boys in One Direction had known so well, he was the biggest of them all. His chest was bare, the sweat from his performance still glistening under the dim lights. He sauntered closer, a mischievous smile on his lips, his eyes gleaming with a hint of challenge.
Ross took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. They'd done this only a few times before when their tours intersected. He grabbed the edge of his black muscle shirt and with one swift motion, pulled it over his head. His eyes never left Harry's, the connection between them as intense as a spotlight.
They stepped closer. Ross could smell the scent of Harry's musky arousal. It was uniquely Harry, a blend of clean sweat and ultra-expensive cologne that made Ross's knees wobble. Harry's eyes traveled over Ross's body, his pupils dilating as he took in every inch of exposed flesh and every golden brown hair. The air was charged with static electricity.
Their bodies met with a passionate force that had been building for months. Harry's hands found Ross's waist, his thumbs tracing the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling the heat of skin beneath the fabric. Ross's fingers tangled in Harry's hair, pulling him closer as their lips met in a kiss that was as much about claiming as yearning. Their tongues explored every inch of each other's mouths.
"Okay, big boy," Harry whispered in Ross's ear, his breath hot and urgent, "show me what you've got."
Ross managed to say, "Go for it, bro." It was their code, a way of saying, "I'm all yours." Harry grinned. The thrill of the chase was now replaced with the thrill of the catch. He shoved his hand into Ross's sweatpants without hesitation, chuckling "Always commando!" His fingers wandered through the sweaty pubic hair to Ross's hard cock with a confidence that sent shivers down Ross's spine. He began to stroke with a rhythm that was as familiar as their favorite songs.
Kisses grew more urgent, hands more demanding. Ross roamed over Harry's body, tracing the contours of his abs, grazing the trail of hair that led down to his crotch. Harry's eyes rolled back, his breath hitching as Ross's fingers tightened around him, moving in time with Harry's strokes. The friction between their bodies was almost unbearable, a delicious ache that made them moan into each other's mouths.
Ross knew what Harry wanted, what they both needed. "Go ahead, babe," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Harry didn't need any more encouragement. He dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving Ross's as he pulled the waistband of the sweatpants down, freeing Ross's erection. He took it in his mouth with a groan that vibrated through Ross's entire being. The wet heat of Harry's mouth was so intense that Ross had to lean against the wall to stay upright.
The sight of Harry on his knees, the way his eyes fluttered, was something Ross had dreamed about on the road countless times when he jerked off. It wasn't just about the physical pleasure; it was the intimacy, the trust, and the knowledge that this was their secret, their shared vulnerability amid the chaos of their public lives. It didn’t matter that Harry was a bigger star, here they were equals. Harry's hands cupped Ross's tight butt, his fingers digging in as he began to bob his head in a steady rhythm that made Ross's toes curl.
Ross's hips jerked reflexively, his body responding to the sensations Harry was creating. It was a feeling he had only ever experienced with Harry, a connection that transcended their celebrity and delved into something far more primal, far more consuming. Harry's mouth was a masterpiece, a symphony of sucks and licks that had Ross's mind reeling. He could feel his orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that was threatening to drown him.
But Harry had learned Ross's cues, and knew exactly how to keep him on the edge. He slowed down, his tongue swirling around Ross's swollen cock head in a way that was infuriatingly tantalizing. Ross groaned, his hands clenching the wall behind him as he tried to hold back. Harry's eyes stayed open, his face a mask of pure concentration, his mouth a work of art.
"Grab my balls," Harry moaned, his voice a low growl. Ross didn't need to be told twice. He reached down, his hand curling around Harry's sac, feeling soft hair and the weight of heavy balls. He gave them a gentle squeeze, eliciting a whine from Harry's throat that sent a bolt of electricity through his body. Harry's eyes opened even wider, meeting Ross's with fiery intensity.
Ross's cock was pulsing in Harry's mouth, the veins standing out like a map to ecstasy. Harry's tongue flicked over the sensitive underside, tasting the steady flow of precum. He could feel Ross's muscles tightening, the tension in his thighs as he fought to keep from cumming. Harry's hands slid up Ross's legs, his fingers digging into the flesh as he took all of Ross down his throat. The sounds of their breathing, the slurping of Harry's mouth on Ross's cock, echoed in the hallway.
"Okay, turn around, bend over and grab your ankles," Ross ordered, his voice gruff with desire. Harry's eyes sparkled with excitement as he complied, his movements liquid and graceful despite the urgency. He presented his ass to Ross, his cheeks parted slightly, his puckered hole fringed in dark hair barely visible in the dim light. Ross's eyes devoured the sight, his own need reaching a fever pitch. He stepped closer, his cock jutting out in front of him, begging for Harry's touch.
"Rossie, you're the best," Harry murmured, his voice thick with lust, "I think about you when those stadiums full of girls yell my name. I get so hard I have to fight not to cum on stage. I want your DNA in me!"
Ross positioned himself behind Harry, aligning his throbbing cock with Harry's welcoming hole. He didn't need words to express the fire that burned within him; his body did that for him. Harry's breath caught as Ross pushed in. Each thrust was a declaration, a silent shout into the vastness of their secret world that said, "This is mine, and no one else's."
Ross murmured against Harry's ear, "Just take it," his voice a raspy whisper. Harry's response was a guttural moan that was music to Ross's ears. Love was complicated, messy, and often painful, but this? This was raw, primal, honest, and so much fucking fun. Their bodies were speaking a language that needed no translation.
Harry reached back, his hands latching onto Ross's hips and pulling him deeper, setting a pace that had them both groaning in unison. Harry's back arched, pushing his ass up to meet Ross's every thrust. It was like they were two pieces of a puzzle that clicked into place. Both were slick with sweat, shining like Greek statues come to life. Their muscles rippled with every movement.
Ross's hand found Harry's cock again, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Harry's breath grew ragged, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on, to make this moment last forever. But it was a battle he was destined to lose. The tension grew, tightening like a guitar string about to snap. "I'm gonna cum," Harry panted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Cum with me, Ross."
The words were a catalyst, setting off a chain reaction in Ross's body. He could feel Harry's cock pulsing in his hand, precum streaming over his fingertips. He leaned over, his chest pressing against Harry's back, his breath hot on Harry's neck. "Goddam, Hazz," he murmured, "you feel so good." And with that, Harry's body tensed, and he spurted all over Ross's hand and shot rope after rope onto the floor.
Ross's orgasm was immediate. With a roar that echoed through the deserted hallway, he buried himself deep inside Harry, pumping as he emptied himself into this guy he had always craved. The feeling of Harry's body clenching around him was indescribable, a sensation that sent shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being. He could feel Harry's warmth enveloping him, the tightness of his ass like a vise that milked every drop from his balls.
Ross's cheeks flushed at the thought. "It's just... I love being so deep inside you. And that you take my cum, that you want it." He kissed Harry's neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "It's like we're one person. I almost wish you were a real biological girl so we could make babies. And no, you're never putting that giant thing of yours inside me!"
Harry chuckled, the sound muffled by his own panting breaths. "Babies, Ross?" He looked over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "I think we're a little past that stage, don't you?" He leaned back into Ross, the warmth of his body a comfort against the cool concrete wall.
"I know, I know," Ross said, his voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "But sometimes, I just wish it could be more than this."
"Yeah, I know," Harry echoed. He stood up, his legs wobbly but his eyes gleaming with determination. "And one day, Mr. Lynch, when you least expect it, you're gonna know how it feels."
They swapped spit in a messy kiss that was both a promise and a farewell, the salty tang of their recent exertion mingling with the spice of a rare relationship. Ross's heart swelled with a bittersweet ache as they pulled away, their chests heaving with the aftermath of their passion. Harry's eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air.
"We'll have to get the schedulers to put our tours in synch again," Harry murmured, his voice a soft caress that sent shivers down Ross's spine. "I don't want to keep doing this in stolen moments."
"Yeah, we'll figure it out." He stepped back, his cock slipping out of Harry. They both looked down at the puddle of cum on the floor, a silent testament to their connection.
"For now, let's just enjoy this," Harry said, his voice soft as he wiped his hand on Ross's sweatpants. They shared a smile that spoke of future promises. "Now, get cleaned up before someone sees us."
HARRY STYLES WITH A COMPLETE BONER 
