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  1. Public Bookmark 89

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    “You get like this,” Harry said yesterday, as he bit the soft skin of Louis’ inner thigh, his long fingers making Louis writhe and sweat beneath him, “every time we start touring again.”

    And Louis hates him for it, but he’s right. It takes him a couple of weeks, usually, to stop resenting the world he finds himself in. To fall back into an easy rhythm. To remember that this won’t last forever.

    Canon-divergent (No baby). 2015 through Louis’ eyes.

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    20 Nov 2017

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “This can’t be happening,” Louis says, banging his hand against the window. “This seriously can’t be happening right now.”

    Things like this only happen in the movies. Things like this don’t happen in real life. There’s no way that he’s seriously been snowed in. There’s no way that the heating is broken. There’s no way that it’s going to take upwards of twenty-four hours and probably a lot longer for the storm to break and someone to come and rescue them.

    “Just sit down, Louis,” Harry sighs from somewhere behind him. He sounds miserable, like he’s already feeling the cold.

    Louis whirls around and points a finger at him. “Did you plan this?” he demands a little hysterically. He regrets the question as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but he thinks he’s got a valid point. It’s not like this storm just came out of nowhere - it has to have been on the news for a couple of days, at least. Plenty of time for Harry to have canceled this excursion.

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    18 Nov 2017

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Tell me that this is a fake,” Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louis’ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesn’t hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat.

    Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate.

    For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harry’s gaze, fixed on him.

    Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him.

    The ring that Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.

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    17 Nov 2017

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

    In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

    Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

    Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

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    17 Nov 2017

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

    Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

    Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

    Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

    Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

    “You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

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    17 Nov 2017