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Dirty Little Secret (1/3): Red silk

Title:Dirty Little Secret: Red Silk
Chapter: 1/3
Author: dancer_shoes
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Pudd (Harry Judd/Dougie Poynter
Summary:"I want you to be wearing these by the time I get home"
A/n:So this is my first time new fandom, I don't know if anyone still reads it, but here goes. It's quite kinky, more so than I've written before, but I hope you'll like it, all comments are welcome
Dislclaimer: All a figment of my questionable imagination, aka, not true.

He comes across them by accident, Danny had been in charge of the washing that week, meaning that he had taken everyone’s stuff and randomly allocated them to people instead of, you know, actually trying to work out what belonged to who. This had left Harry in the unfortunate situation of having no boxers and, as Tom and Danny both vehemently denied having of his in their drawer, this just left Dougie, who unfortunately was visiting his mum for the weekend, and Harry kind of needed some boxers. Now.
He didn’t feel guilty about going into Dougie’s room when he wasn’t there, he knew Dougie did it to him all the time, but as he opened his underwear drawer, he definitely felt like something wasn’t right. And that’s when he spotted them, tucked away in the corner, folded neatly, unlike the boxers which were stuffed in any which way. Harry took the first one out, it was green, with a lace trim, small and dainty, the next was plan blue and silky, then just white lace with a small pink bow, and they were only the start.
He took them out one by one, handling them carefully as if they were precious goods, what were they doing in Dougie’s drawer? They weren’t his ex’s, no Harry had helped him burn everything of hers after she’d slept with that scumbag from Spain. They weren’t from fans either, Dougie proudly kept them in his sordid bottom drawer, his prize possessions with the bras and dirty letters he regularly got sent, right next to his porn stash. But why were they there? They’d clearly been worn, but taken care of, the thought crossed Harry’s mind, surely Dougie didn’t.... no surely not? He had to find out.

The breakthrough came 3 weeks later. Harry had patiently been waiting for the perfect opportunity to take a look, it wasn’t that unusual, after all Harry was infamous for always trying to strip Dougie, but he’d had no luck, he’d had no opportunity to pull down his trousers, without looking like a horny pervert, which in some respects was exactly what he was.
Tom and Danny get out the car first, before Dougie ducks his head and bends over to scramble out himself. Its ungraceful, but there again, there’s never an easy way to get out of the backseat as Harry himself knows all too well. But there’s a moment, when Dougie’s arse is in the air and Harry sees just the faintest glint of pink silk and he knows, this is his chance.
He jumps out the car and follows Dougie into the house, cornering him in the hallway, next to the coat rack. Tom and Danny are obliviously nattering away in the kitchen, finally grabbing a bite to eat after a long day of interviews. So Harry pushes Dougie up against the wall, knowing he won’t be disturbed.
“Harry? What are you doing?” Dougie sounded scared, unsure of what his friend was about to do.
Harry just snarled, “I know your dirty little secret” He hissed into Dougie’s ear, his hand diving down the back of his loose jeans, finding, just as he expected, Dougie’s bare arse cheeks, framed by soft silk, he runs his finger across the soft, supple flesh, before, tracing his index finger down the string separating the two cheeks, “You dirty. Little. Boy” He whispered, revelling in Dougie’s soft gasp, as Harry applied pressure as he got to his hole.
As quickly as he started, Harry jerked his hand out of the younger lad’s jeans and swept into the kitchen, casual as ever, leaving Dougie panting and confused.

It was only two days before Dougie came home to find a small package wrapped in red tissue paper, stuck down with an Anne Summers sticker. He picked it up confused, it was soft and light, there was no doubt what was inside. On the other side was a post it note, very clearly in Harry’s neat, precise lettering,

I want you to be wearing these, by the time I get home
Dougie fingered the package, unsure of what to do, what was Harry thinking? He’d been on edge since the incident the other day, not sure of Harry’s intentions, was he going to out him? Blackmail him? Every single worst case scenario had been running through his head, but never once had this occurred to him. What was he going to do to him?
However, whether it was curiosity or something else that led him to do it, he found himself unwrapping the small package, discarding the tissue paper, as he took out the contents. The red silk slithered softly against his fingers, the black lace neatly trimming the outline, and the tiniest black lace string bringing up the rear. They were exactly his size. They were perfect.
He didn’t want to be Harry’s plaything, he didn’t want to be following his orders, but one touch of his new underwear, and he knew he had to put them on. He craved the sensation of the soft slide of silk against his sensitive skin.

Dougie most definitely was not waiting for Harry to come home, yes, alright, he was sitting in silence in the living room, yes he jumped every time he heard a car outside, his head whipping round to see if it was Harry and yes, he was currently wearing his new thong just as Harry had instructed. But no he most definitely was not waiting for Harry to get back. Or so he was trying to convince himself.
As the clock ticked by he began to get edgy, what was he doing? What did Harry want from him? Thoughts were running through his head a hundred miles per hour, surely this must relate to some weird twisted fantasy of his that he was desperate to let out and as much as Dougie should have felt disgusted, he couldn’t help but be intrigued.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the car or the door, it was only when he looked up to check the time that he realised he was no longer alone.
“Let me see”
Dougie tried to protest, but Harry came over to where he was sitting running a hand through the younger boys hair.
“Don’t try and deny it,” He whispered sultrily, running a hand down Dougie’s chest, the younger boy frozen and nervous, unsure what to do, “Now let me see”
Dougie was sure he’d never heard a sound like the strangled sigh Harry gave when he lifted the waist band of Dougie’s cargo pants to reveal a hint of red and black. It was stifled, and sexy and made Dougie break out into a sweat.
“Good boy, it’ll all be so much easier if you do as you’re told”
Dougie didn’t take his eyes off Harry as he re-arranged until he was straddling Dougie’s slender hips. He let out a shaky sigh, this was so wrong on so many levels, yet he didn’t want Harry to stop. He obligingly lifted his hips to allow Harry to slip his trouser down and off and he blushed as Harry let out a moan, his eyes roaming over the bassist’s lower half.

Dougie’s never felt as exposed in life as right now, under Harry’s hungry gaze, though somewhere inside this stirs a reaction in himself. It’s him that’s making Harry incoherent, his body taking away his veneer, making Harry want him and that thought does strange things to Dougie, making his insides twist and turn, desire pooling deep inside him.
Harry traces his fingers, feather-light up in the tender skin on the inside of Dougie’s thighs, feeling the muscles clench and relax underneath his teasing touch. His fingers skirt about the edge of the fabric, not daring to touch just yet, instead choosing to head further upwards, under his loose polo, trawling through his happy trail and up to smooth their way across his chest.
He brings his face down to lick across where waistband meets skin, revelling in the tickling sensation of the lace against his tongue mixed with the sweat from Dougie’s arousal. He can’t help but smirk as his notices just how much Dougie is enjoying this, he can see the fabric already straining around Dougie’s enlarging member, he can smell the scent of arousal, feel the heat radiating from his best friend, hear the whimpers as Harry’s mouth ghosts over his crotch. The warm breath on his sensitive area, leaves Dougie wanting more, desperate for contact he bucks his hips, but he’s stopped by Harry who gives a warning grunt, and brings his hands to press down on Dougie’s hips, just hard enough that it might bruise.
Harry’s own erection is straining inside his tight jeans, its uncomfortable and sensual at the same time, it’s the embodiment of his own desperate, dirty, excitement. He brings his cheek down, to rub against the silk covering Dougie’s crotch, he can feel the heat and dampness leaking out from Dougie dick and suddenly it’s all too much. He’s senses are on overload, everything he can see, smell, feel, taste is Dougie and silk and it’s too much for him to handle. He moans, the sound reverberating through Dougie’s body, before sitting back on his haunches, still straddling Dougie, and finally freeing his cock from its material prison.
It only takes a couple of strokes before he’s stuttering and moaning, his head thrown back, muscles clenched, he comes with a primal roar “Fuck yeah Dougie”, splaying his cum all over Dougie thighs and the outrageous red panties.
He looks down to find Dougie in a similar state, his now limp cock in hand, their cum mixing, swimming together on his lower half. He drags a finger through the sticky mess, before bringing it up to his lips, moaning appreciatively at the salty taste, all too aware of Dougie’s gaze following his every movement.
“Wanna try some?” He asks, one eyebrow raised and it all Dougie can do is whimper and nod, sounding just as much of a desperate little boy he currently feels. So Harry leans down, and swipes his tongue across the soiled fabric, in a movement that wouldn’t look out of place in a cheap porno, before moving up to attack Dougie’s mouth with his own.
The kiss isn’t graceful or heartfelt, it’s all tongues and teeth and cum, it’s disgusting, it’s exhilarating and it leaves Dougie panting and even more helpless than before when Harry suddenly pulls away, getting up of the sofa and tucking himself back in.
He pauses when he gets to the door, looking back over Dougie’s body, sprawled across the sofa, eyes lingering once again on the silk panties, “And by the way, you might wanna clean those properly, you never know when we might need them again.”
And with that he leaves Dougie, a spent, dirty, used mess on the sofa to clean himself up and get back to normal life. He should feel angry, abused or just plain wrong, but the fact that Harry had hinted at a repeat, is enough to make him want to run for the shower, a plethora of wank fantasies already forming in his dirty little mind.