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Harry finds that he can't keep things separate; neither can Louis.
Harry tousles his hair, smoothes it back, shrugging. “Alright,” he says. “I’m, you know, outside if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Louis replies. “Sure.” He doesn’t look like he’ll be needing Harry, and Harry tells himself that that’s okay. They’ve both got their moods sometimes or maybe the timing isn’t good, and if it’s not then that’s alright as well. Harry can respect that. And it’s not like this is their first tour; Harry knows that Louis will come around. He always does.
set the pace by flimsy for blueandbrady
5 Jan 2014
It's not always easy, but sometimes it's harder than it has to be. --University meets Radio 1 AU
“Do you think,” Nick says, “that we can keep this between us?” He gestures between himself and Louis and gives Louis a crooked smile like this is all explanatory, and Louis’ stomach twists uncomfortably.
“What,” he retorts, raising his brows, “that we shagged? Or that you are an awful snorer?”
In the aftermath of 1DDay, Harry finds a way to help Louis relax.
“You made such a ruckus when you came in,” Louis grunts, but there’s a smile tugging on his lips. He squirts some shower gel into his hand and starts washing himself, staring up at Harry, drops of water clinging to his lashes and his lips, making his Cupid’s bow look like a fruit ready to be plucked. Harry swallows, feels a rush of heat creep up the small of his back, and slides his hand from Louis’ arm to his waist, thumb rubbing his stomach.
Louis' heat and Harry's rut coincide.
Harry smirks a little, the corner of his mouth drawing up. “Yeah?” he says and Louis glares at him, shifting uncomfortably, but finally nods. There is no point denying something that Harry must already know - that he probably knew from the very moment he had Louis up on the kitchen counter in the bus, his hips wedged between Louis’ thighs, kissing even as the glasses rattled in the cupboards.
Liam and Louis find something to do that day on the yacht.
“Don’t be a knob,” he says and nudges his nose against Liam’s arm again, faux-snapping for him until Liam catches his jaw in his hand to stop him.
“No biting.” He grins and presses his thumb squarely over Louis’ lips and Louis scrunches up his nose, half-amused, half-annoyed because he can’t move at all with Liam’s arm around his shoulder and his hand holding him tightly, locking him in. He wiggles his tongue out until his taste buds bloom up with the salt from the sea that’s still stuck to Liam’s skin, and cocks a brow at Liam, grinning against his thumb when Liam’s eyes widen a little, mouth forming a perfect little ‘O’. Liam releases his chin, brows furrowing, and Louis chases his hand with the flat of his tongue, laughing.