It goes like this:
Harry and Louis’ lovely mums were first uni dorm mates separated by graduation. As time went on, distance grew when Anne moved to London with Des (her uni sweetheart) and Jay landed an internship in Manchester.
Next, marriage and kids - lots of kids on Jay’s end - had them reconnected for baby showers and the such. But, once Jay stopped popping out babies and Anne’s eldest graduates university herself, big events for meetings just did not come.
That is, until Harry’s graduation, of course.
Harry first properly meets Louis when he is eighteen. Sure, they’ve briefly seen each other throughout the years with their mums and all, but never . . . like this.
It was Harry’s graduation party for god’s sake, but when a hot twenty-two year old Louis spoke to him with that Hi, curly. What’re doin’ with your life next? Hair stylist, no? he forgets he is supposed to be greeting and socializing with distant family he has failed to see since he exited the womb.
He just found Louis so funny and nice because he was so much older and cooler than Harry himself, yet he showed genuine interest in him. Teenage Harry knew he was attracted to him of course, but he also knew that boys like Louis simply didn't like awkward young boys like Harry.
So, Harry took what he could get.
Louis remembers seeing Harry throughout the years because how could he not.
He was thirteen when the first set of twins were born. Anne and the entire family came along to the shower, including a little nine year old Harry.
Louis was sent to keep an eye on Harry while Anne helped Jay with the party games. Louis moaned and groaned the whole time, much rather be playing game cube than watch some baby run himself over with his toy trucks. He ended up finding a kind of peace and looking after Harry, the newfound responsibility getting to his head. Maybe the kid wasn't half bad, after all.
Harry’s graduation, though. That was something different entirely .
Louis honestly did not even recognize him at first, definitely not the same annoying nine year old he was forced to babysit.
By the end of Harry’s party, he remembers feeling quite guilty about stealing Harry away to play fifa, but he would always assure him that I much rather be in here with you than trying to make conversation with cousins I haven’t seen in years to which Louis replied I haven’t seen you in years, yet you’re making conversation with me to which Harry just blushed, not knowing how to respond.
Louis found it endearing.
Fast forward seven years later and much as changed.
Louis is a commercial pilot, flying all over the world for a ridiculous amount of money, still unmarried, but in love with his best friend (it’s whatever, he deals with it), living in a classy apartment when he is home in London (on the rarity).
Harry, on the other hand, is a very successful art dealer, making an even more ridiculous amount of money than Louis probably, and still very much single and in love with his best friend who lives but a mile down the road from him in his artistic-hippie-interior-designed home.
Louis hates some of the decor in Harry’s house, but wants to live in it nonetheless.
He tells Harry half of that statement when he knocks on his door, soaking wet from the bitch fit mother nature is throwing outside.
Harry just blinks at him once before dragging him inside with a roll of his eye.
“Sorry, wasn’t aware my pleasant, warm, dry home was a nuisance to you.” He happens to have a towel by his front door ready for him, but he isn’t too fussed when it soaks up the rain water dripping from his hair.
Louis does not answer his sarcasm, just dries himself until he stops dripping enough to step out of his shoes. He also removes his jacket, the denim unsurprisingly not doing much in blocking the rain.
It’s only then that he realizes he has yet to look at Harry . . . really look at him.
He is stood there with only boxers and a big ass grey hoodie that Louis is pretty sure he got him a few years back. At least, that what he likes to think. Sure, Harry could have gotten himself a new grey jumper since, but Louis likes to indulge himself (especially when it comes to his Harry).
He's crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, looking at Louis expectantly. He looks hotter than he ought to for the given situation; all long legs and lean, subtle muscle.
Louis bites his tongue and peels off his damp jeans and socks, balling the articles up into his arms, leaving him in only a semi-dry undershirt. “Dryer?” he asks, feeling pathetic and, most of all, tired with his clothes in his hands and messy hair dangling in his eyes.
Harry nods while toeing at the rug beneath his bare feet. Louis sees it when he notices the suitcase. “Didn’t feel like making the extra mile drive to yours?” and Harry says it like he knows and he probably does, but Louis cannot find it in him to care in the moment, unbelievably jet-lagged and smelling like wet dog.
Yes, the adult thing to do would have been to go home, climb into bed, and unpack in the morning, but no.
Louis shrugs at Harry's questions and makes his way to the laundry room. Harry doesn’t follow him, which makes his stomach tense up because Louis is kind of being a dick, but it is only because he is exhausted and groggy and needs a goddamn shower.
When he gets back to the kitchen, Harry is pouring two cuppas.
He sighs when he hands it to him, downing it all pretty quickly, ignoring the burning of his tongue. Harry watches him with an uneven scrunch to his brows and an uncertain bite on his lip.
“Hey,” Louis sets down the cup and presses his thumb to Harry’s brow, “I’m sorry.”
Harry just nods with a shrug and Louis hates himself.
Louis lifts his sweatshirt a bit to thumb at the waistband of his pants. “Please. Will be quick.”
Louis picks the shower in Harry’s room, which is no big deal, Harry doesn't mind, not in the slightest.
He understands, is the thing. He understands that Louis gets like this when he is gone for fairly long amounts of time. He is fidgety and exhausted and Harry doesn’t blame him for an instant. If anything, he is grateful for it. Because as selfish as it sounds, it means he gets to have Louis like this; showing up unannounced during odd hours of the night, luggage still in hand. He came straight to Harry , skipping over his own place, and he thinks that must mean something.
When he exits the ensuite into Harry’s room he’s got only Harry’s boxers on, having snagged them from his drawer beforehand. He flicks the light off on the bedside before climbing in next to him. He waits for Louis to slide his fingers between his before he fits himself into him, finally touching how he wants. He breathes in against Louis’ neck the smell of his own body wash and sighs helplessly.
He focuses on Louis tracing his fingertips up and down the expanse of his back, soft to the touch.
“Much. Thank you, darling.” Louis presses his lips to the top of his head and Harry shift up a bit closer, lets his hand that’s not on his chest to cradle his neck.
“Gonna stay with me?” and Harry means tonight, but also maybe an eternity.
Louis replies with, “Always,” and they promptly fall asleep.
Louis awakes to many questions with no answers. 1) Where is Harry 2) how late did he sleep because it is brighter than acceptable in here and 3) where is Harry.
He prays that Harry does not have to go into work today. Him barging into his home with no warning at an ungodly hour, he knows Harry and knows that he genuinely doesn’t mind, but it still irks Louis that he could have messed up Harry’s sleep schedule even in the slightest. A voice in the back of his mind informs him that he is being an idiot and overthinking. He clings to it.
When he finds Harry in the den, he firstly sighs in relief that he is not at work, and secondly, forgets how to breathe (a common occurrence around Harry that he can never seem to get accustomed to).
He’s got on tight white briefs that basically run into his skin and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He has his phone in one hand, tea in the other with his ankles crossed atop the coffee table. His hair looks slept-in and roused by Louis’ own hands and he cannot help but think about the other instances where he could make Harry's hair look like that.
He grabs a tea from the kitchen, still thankfully warm enough from Harry’s batch. He looks to be replying to an email when Louis stands in front of him, mug in hand, blowing over the steam.
Harry rests his toe on Louis’, acknowledging him as he finishes typing. He sets his phone down when he’s finished, looking up at Louis with a warm, sleepy grin on.
Louis sticks out his hand. “Wanna go out back with me? Need a smoke.”
Harry nods and takes his hand. He takes them to where he knows the gorgeous patio sits before a trail that leads further back to Harry’s Cucumber plants, Louis. I use them for cooking. It’s not a joke, stop laughing!
Louis relaxes back into the white floating swing thing first (he is not one for interior design, okay) and Harry settles between his legs, facing him. They situate sideways so that it’s wide enough for the both of them. Louis pulls out a fag and Harry’s ankle keeps rutting his tee up to rub against his hip. It is still early enough that it's foggy and the sky appears a deep orange. It is more than nice.
“Time’s’it?” Louis exhales, watching the smoke float past Harry’s shoulder.
He shrugs, nuzzling his cheek into the blanket still around him and Louis’ stomach clenches at how unknowingly adorable it is. “Like nine, probably. Didn’t sleep too late.”
“No work today?”
Harry takes a sip of tea. “Pushed it off until tomorrow.”
“H,” he leans up closer so his arms rest on his knees, “go if you need. I know this was unexpected -”
“You’re always unexpected.”
Louis blinks at that because if he means unexpected by showing up at Harry’s house then yeah, definitely. But, he could also mean something different entirely. Unexpected on how he is? How they are? Or maybe on how they ended up? He goes with the worst.
“I know and I’m sorry I just -”
“Don’t apologize.” Harry keeps touching his calf, drawing mindless figures and it is all too distracting from figuring out what this conversation is actually about. “I love you unexpected. Love you in any way, okay?”
Louis doesn’t want to push is luck with that I love you in any way, but it is hard not to when Harry is looking at him like this; so softly with no intent but so much at the same time. Louis questions if he deserves him in any sense at all.
“Love you in any way back."
Harry can’t fucking stop giggling .
He has had a few (or so) whiskey sours and Louis’ eyes look so pretty when they're looking at him. Harry is currently dancing with Gemma and his tipsy mind finds watching his flowy pants move against his boots when he dances more amusing than he ought to. He still lets the other half of his brain that is not as tipsy sense Louis’ eyes flicking over to him every now and again. He’s over at the bar with Gemma’s boyfriend, Michal, laughing with crinkled eyes that Harry could spot from across the universe, probably.
The thing is, Louis’ only back for another day before he is stolen from Harry again, needed for some flights to Jamaica. Which, in Harry’s opinion, is just well unfair because Harry needs Louis more than some bloody vacationers.
“What’s wrong? You just couldn’t stop laughing a second ago,” Gemma asks, concerned as she can in her own intoxication.
Harry waves his hand. “Nothin’. Just gonna go- ” he hiccups, waves his hand, “drink.”
Gemma follows him and they make their way back to Michal and Louis. It’s really something, the way they can forget about their surroundings when it comes to each other. He told Gemma he needed a drink, but he really has no interest in drinking anymore tonight now that Louis is back in this close proximity to him.
Louis touches him immediately and Harry pushes into where they touch. Fingers loose around his wrist and left leg pressed against right, Louis winks at him cheekily.
Harry brings them closer because the alcohol tells him to and he wraps them into a hug because the alcohol is a safety net and he lets himself dig his face into Louis’ neck to smell him because the alcohol allows it.
Louis has only had a few, being their driver for the night because he is responsible . Harry tells him as much.
“I am, hm?” Louis pulls back a bit to look him in the eye. Harry tries to blink the stray strand of hair out of his eye but Louis moves it for him.
“Yeah,” he exhales and Louis definitely has no idea what Harry is talking about but it’s fine. All is well because Louis’ still touching him, therefore he must still like him at least a little bit.
Louis tilts his head at him, like he is studying his face or something. “You look stunning.”
Harry bites his lip into a smile and nudges his shoe in thanks.
They are stood in Harry’s doorway the next night. After Harry went to work for a bit, Louis came over and spent the better half of the day doing nothing besides watching reruns of Gogglebox and eating takeout. Not having to leave Harry’s couch until this moment made everything feel kind of . . . static. It’s never easy when Louis leaves, and no matter how hopeful Harry becomes on it getting easier, hope disappoints.
Louis brought his bags to Harry’s, having to go straight to the airport after. Harry notices the hair tie on Louis' wrist and feels like crying because it is for Harry. For when they’re cuddling and Harry wants it out of his face, or when they brush their teeth and his hair gets in the way, he always has one at the ready because Harry never does.
Harry is not much better, literally wearing Louis’ joggers that he plays footie in when he is home for more than two days at a time.
Louis opens his arms for him and Harry sinks. Louis is at least trying to not look overly sad while Harry is full on pouting like a seven year old who just got their favorite toy ran overly a semi-truck.
“So, like . . . .” Harry starts.
He sighs, fiddles with the bottom of Louis’ tee. “Thirteen days.”
“Not even that long, really, yeah? We’ve went longer.”
“Yeah,” Harry shrugs along with him, trying to convince himself. “Way longer.”
This time just feels different somehow. This time Louis has been at Harry’s everyday he has been back, only going home today to pack some clothes.
Louis embraces him first this time, tight enough that Harry can feel it when he inhales his hair. “Text you constantly.”
Harry loops his arms behind his neck. “Maybe not when you’re operating the plane, please.”
He laughs, but Harry knows it doesn't reach his face. “Autopilot is a thing, you know. It was designed for situations like ours.” Situations like ours. He squeezes Harry’s hip.
He hums in response, steps his sock clad feet a top Louis’ sneakers. The tilt forces him to hold Harry tighter.
“Call when you can, too please.”
“‘Course, babe. Gonna be bothering you when you’re trying to sleep and everything.”
Harry presses his lips against Louis’ shoulder. “Want you to bother me.”
He chuckles. “Be careful what you say, there.”
Harry shakes his head. “Mean it.”
He then situates Harry by the hips, having him step off from his feet, but not by much, still toe to toe. He looks into Louis’ eyes and he appears frustrated, eyes flitting across Harry’s face. He moves his hands from Harry’s waist to cheeks, shaking his head like it pains him and Harry thinks yes, I feel that, too stay with me forever don’t leave .
He turns his head to kiss Louis’ palm instead.
“Wanna kiss you,” and he says it with his thumb pressed to Harry’s bottom lip. It really is not anything they haven’t done before, but it just always feels so heavy. Weighted with the way Louis looks sad to leave him and suffocating in the way he is so close yet not ever close enough.
Harry drops his mouth open a tad, just to marvel in the way Louis sighs and his thumb slips a bit inside. “Will probably die by the next thirteen days if you don’t.”
Louis looks fond when he says “Always so dramatic,” before finally taking Harry’s bottom lip between his own. What starts as soft and slow, sweet kisses turn into tiny licks against each other’s tongues. It’s all very teasing and leaves Harry wanting more than he knows he can have.
When Louis pulls away, he chases him with a whine in the back of his throat, embarrassingly so. “Baby, c’mon,” he shakes his head and Harry feels like an absolute puddle on the floor which is ironic because that is exactly where he wants to be. On the floor. On his knees. For Louis. “You know we won’t stop.”
“Please can you just -” now Harry is the one becoming frustrated, sliding his palm under Louis’ tee, feeling the burning skin there.
“Hey.” Louis takes hold of his wrist, brings it to his slips to press his lips there. He looks at him with dark eyes and Harry knows he is just as affected. “Thirteen days.”
It sounds like a promise.
It is a Tuesday night and Louis is trying to convince himself that this wretched misery he’s feeling is healthy. (Or, in Niall’s words, Healthy detachment because you guys are together all the time and it’ll be good for you to see how you are away from each other). But, in Louis’ esteemed opinion, Niall is a fucking idiot.
Harry texts him throughout the days, of course, but it is rarely an actual conversation’s length talk seeing as he is so busy at work. Harry (for the most part) makes his own schedule with his job, but he told Louis he wanted to stay busy while he is gone, that way he has more time to see him when he gets home. Harry is smart and Louis misses him horribly.
You sleeping love ??
He ends up messaging Harry when he gets back to the hotel. It is around dinner time, which means a little past midnight in London. If he doesn’t work early tomorrow, he should still be awake . . . most likely curled up on the couch or bed with the best cuppa Louis has ever tasted (spite his mum’s) and starkers except for boxers and maybe duvet if he left the window open.
Not quite. Long day x
Louis frowns at that and changes out of his uniform into some sweats before responding.
Fancy a chat ? xx
His phone rings before he can even properly open the message.
“Hey, lovely,” he picks up, situating himself in the too fresh hotel bed sheets with his room service meal.
“Lou,” Harry yawns into the speaker and Louis bites down too hard on his chicken. He wants to hear Harry say his name in so many octaves, in so many different settings and scenarios. “Miss you.”
“Miss you. This chicken tastes nothing like your fajitas . . . or your strawberry cheesecake mmm.”
An airy laugh is released into the phone and Louis aches to feel it against his cheek. “I would hope your chicken doesn’t taste like cheesecake.”
He scoffs, placing his meal on the bedside table. To listen better, he takes Harry off speaker. It also feels closer somehow, Harry directly in his ear.
It has only been three damn days. Three days out of thirteen and Louis hurts all over.
“Fine, then, mister smartass. These sheets, though . . . .” he runs his fingertips over the white linen, images it is as the expanse of Harry’s back and how he (rarely) wakes up before him on Sundays, so he gets the chance to ogle it into oblivion. “These sheets have nothing against yours.”
“Yeah?” He bites his lip and imagines Harry sighing into his ear. “Tell me what makes our sheets so special, then.” God, our sheets. Louis doesn’t get how Harry does that. Says something so out of the blue, so miniscule yet so them that it would be weird to even question.
“Well, you’re in them, for starters.” Harry lets out a whine, sounding like he might physically be in pain, but he still continues. “Don’t have anything pretty to wake up to for the next ten days at least .”
Harry hums now, sounding like he regained himself, and clicks his tongue. “Should’ve sent you off with a cardboard cut out or something. Don’t want you havin’ to find a replacement.”
Louis almost screams at him then because that is laughable, honestly. “Don’t need a piece of cardboard or a replacement when I’ve already got the best.”
Is it awful to say that all this sweet talk is making him hard? Probably . . . he still adjusts his dick anyway.
“Oh, you’ve already got the best, do you?” and Harry says it teasing, but Louis isn’t.
“ More than."
Harry whistles, impressed and Louis can hear the sheets pull when he stretches. He closes his eyes for a moment to picture Harry spreading his long limbs, muscles stretching beneath his soft skin, begging for Louis to just reach out and touch. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a boy, you know," Harry interrupts his thoughts.
“He can handle it.” Louis sounds sure. “Can handle anything I give him.”
And yeah there goes his boner again because he cannot seem to control himself. Plus, he really isn’t helping when he is talking to Harry the way that he is.
“Can take it - handle it, I mean. I can handle it.” He sounds like he’s shuffling around and Louis’ beginning to think he is in the same boat as him, if the way he just switched this conversation back to first person is anything to go by.
“Hm,” Louis digs his palm into his crotch, admitting that there is really no going back now. It’s them, everything will be fine. “Know you can handle it. How do I know if you can really take it, though?”
“ Louis- ” he says his name like a curse, on the verge of something great and Louis is hard , but also knows better.
“It’s late, babe. You need to sleep.”
“I don’t wanna sleep.” And his voice sounds deeper when he speaks, a mix of tired and turned on. “Can’t sleep proper without you.” Louis clenches his eyes shut tight, breathes and counts to ten. “Lou?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
“Okay . . . alright?”
“Will be, Haz . . . soon as I can come home to you. Will be.”
Louis wanks that night with the thought of taking Harry exactly how he would like; first deep and slow, then fast and sure. He surprises even himself with the amount of come that pools on his stomach.
A simple Harry is the text he receives when he wakes up a few days later. It’s absolutely pathetic the way his cock stirs at the simple text of his damn name that Louis sent him. He will just blame it on the morning wood.
I’m comin’ straight to yours and Harry almost scoffs because as if he’d have it any other way.
I’d be offended if you didn’t . . . been a hard two weeks of silence in my house you know
Cheeky, but I won’t be the only one one making it loud, love
He gulps. If Louis has been leading him on about whatever . . . this is he will undoubtedly combust as soon as he walks through his door. They are flitting around the edges of something Harry has only wanked about since he was sixteen and sure, there was that one time Harry came in his pants from Louis’ morning wood pressed against his bum and a little rubbing on the sheets, but he was sixteen then. He doesn’t know where the line is now, but thinks it is finally beginning to blur.
I’m holding you to that statement he sends along with a selfie of him in bed. Harry is no idiot and makes sure the collar is in the background on his bedside table.
Is that a collar Harry
Oh how weird! Don’t know how that got there
You’re insufferable. Four days
Harry plans to hold his breath until then. He also plans to a) not come until he sees Louis and b) make sure to show him his collar. It is going to be a long four days.
It is four days later and Harry’s bones are sizzling. He has been horny for the previous four days without release and he physically doesn’t know how to cope anymore. He just needs to see Louis, touch him in anyway he can to make his blood stop running so damn hot.
When are you getting in?
Knock knock is Louis’ reply and when Harry is in the midst of typing who’s there? he realizes.
He drops his phone as he skids to the door and barely gets Louis inside before he crashes into him. “You’re a shit.” Louis squeezes him back just as tight and Harry buries his face so deep into his neck he can’t breathe anything besides Louis’ bare skin.
“God,” Louis huffs like he can’t really believe he is home and everything kind of moves too fast too think after that.
He pulls Harry back by the hair to properly look at him, and Harry whines and throws his head back a bit because he is so undeniably horny and in love with Louis that it just comes out naturally at this point. He wants Louis all over him and - in him - these fourteen days without haven’t helped his case.
Harry watches him with hooded eyes as he moves one hand along the column of his throat, then rests it there. He does not put too much pressure, just holds, but Harry still absolutely loses it inside. He doesn't need his collar when he has Louis' hand.
He grips Louis’ shoulders, whispers a, “Please,” so soft that barely his own ears hear it. Louis’ eyes look so dark when they stare at Harry’s parted lips. “Missed you so much. Please, Lou. Need . . . .” and Harry does not know what he needs, but Louis does.
He moves them so Harry’s back is against the closed door, hand still sat prettily at his throat. “Fuck,” Louis keeps shaking his head and Harry isn’t having it, okay?
“Jesus fuck, Louis! Will you fucking wreck me already?”
Louis blinks at him for a few pauses, before suddenly just . . . snapping. Harry screams Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! in his head when Louis pushes him down to his knees. Harry does not even think about the fact he has yet to kiss him hello when he is in this position, too occupied with undoing Louis' belt buckle. He nuzzles at Louis’ cock through his pants, and Louis curses when he sucks on the wet head through the fabric. “Fuck, baby.” Harry licks his lips and sucks harder. “Take me out, need you around me.”
Harry hums happily, pulling Louis’ pants down, not even letting him step out of them before he licks up the length. Maybe it's the cockslut in him, but Harry has never seen a prick so fucking pretty. He finally puts the entire length in his mouth, bit by bit and god, he loves it, has needed this for so long. “Want you to fuck my throat, c’mon.”
“Yeah?” Louis sounds breathless already and Harry cannot keep the serene grin off his face. He leans back on his hunches so that his head rests against the door. His knees are aching and his back is stiff but he could literally give less of a shit, so he opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue, and closes his eyes. “ Fuck, Harry.” He frowns when nothing is in his mouth, but is okay again when he opens his eyes to see Louis kneeling in front of him. He takes Harry’s face in his hands and kisses him deep. Harry collapses into him, but Louis holds out, letting Harry practically melt into his hands like putty.
“Louis,” he says between kisses, more desperate than ever, “haven’t come in so long . Please -”
“Yeah?” Louis tilts Harry’s head to look at him, sticks a thumb in his mouth to keep him occupied. “Been a good boy for me, then?”
Harry sucks around the digit eagerly, wishing it was Louis’ cock again. “ Yes. ”
Louis cannot stop watching his mouth and Harry can’t stop watching Louis watch his mouth. “What did you think when you touched yourself, but didn’t come, yeah?”
Harry nods grateful because Louis knows, he knows that is exactly what Harry did - didn’t dare to come without his permission.
“Thought about you. Always you . . . sucking you off until you come down my throat, then opening myself up so I’m already ready for you to just take .” Louis groans a bit, so Harry tries to wrap his hand around his cock again. Louis lets him. He finishes softer, “Thought about your hands on me.”
“Where did you think about my hands being?”
“ God, Lou. Fucking everywhere. In my hair, on my ass, in me.”
Harry’s still got his hand around Louis’ cock while his own is left curled against his tummy, hard and leaking. “Bet you could come so easily.”
“Can,” Harry nods, eager as he tries to get his mouth on Louis’ skin - anywhere he can reach, really.
Louis pulls Harry to straddle him and Harry startles his rhythm on Louis’ dick when Louis moves Harry’s waistband down a tad so that just the wet tip is exposed. Harry hisses, but being the good boy he is, bites his lip and leans his forehead on Louis’ shoulder. He stays quiet and watches his hand move over Louis' shaft instead.
“Oh, baby,” Louis guffaws when another spurt of precome emerges. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Do anything for you. Won’t come all night if you don’t want me to I swear I -“ and he’s shaking his head like he needs Louis to believe him.
Louis panics for a moment because Harry is just so perfect for him. He knew Harry would be submissive, typically is in his everyday life, but he did not expect this . . . something so open and dependent that he’s swimming in it.
“Shh, I know. You’re so good for me,” and Louis does not know how he hasn’t come yet. He is holding it tight in his gut because he loves this. He's thriving off the power he holds right now, but he needs to see Harry come apart sooner rather than later for his own selfish reasons. “Not tonight, okay? Need you to come good for me.”
“ Yes. ” Harry has a tear in his eye and is humping the air so prettily when his one hand is still working Louis’ cock and the other is gripping his shoulder. “For you . . .” and he sounds so far away from Louis even though he is right here and it’s all so, so much.
It doesn’t take much longer for Louis to spill over Harry’s fist, Harry looking between his face and cock with his mouth hung open in awe.
“Fuck. Come closer.” He moves so that his cock rubs against Louis’ stomach and some of his precome drips onto Louis’ abdomen. “Think you can come with barely anything?”
“Not anything. It’s everything.” Louis’ heart swells and he kisses Harry’s lips soft for their current situation. “Just talk to me.”
“Of course.” He rubs one hand along the expanse of his back. With his other hand, he touches a finger to the tip of Harry’s cock, the lightest touch. “So wet, angel. My perfect boy.”
“ Fuck, ” he ruts into the air quicker, “yours.”
Louis continues to swirl a light finger around the tip, spreading the slick. “Everything to me . . . want you to spill all over your tummy. So easy for me.”
“I’m gonna - gonna come, Lou. So easy for you. Could come from just looking at you swear I -“ and then he’s coming thick and white on his and Louis’ stomaches.
They don’t talk much, they don’t need to, the pair of them living in what just happened.
Louis holds him until they both fall asleep.
“ Shit,” Harry trips, stumbling into Louis’ apartment at approximately 2:32 a.m. He tries to be quiet coming in, but he came from the bar with Niall and Nick and is heavy on his feet as is, but even more so with a few drinks in him. He is not feeling overly tired for the hour, which he’s grateful for, seeing as Louis just got back from Amsterdam.
He texted him a simple Home x and Harry left the bar with covering the tab and a hug to Nick and Niall. Messages have been constant since last week’s shenanigans, and nothing seems too strange in their dynamic. Harry tries to not think too hard about it.
“Don’t fucking swear.”
Harry startles in the middle of taking his boot off, but relaxes when he is met with Louis’ sparkling gaze.
“Did I wake you?” Harry watches him yawn and he is too far away.
Louis shrugs. “Glad you did.”
Harry nods in understanding because Louis loves to sleep throughout the day. With his strange work schedule, sleeping in daylight is his normal, and it can sometimes feel like Harry’s, too.
Louis’ eyes seem to bore into him deeper for a second, so he moves closer and almost forgets to take off his other shoe.
Louis holds his hand out, like he has so many times before. Harry takes, like he has so many times before.
They embrace in the moonlit kitchen and Harry takes in the scent of soap and fresh linen.
“At the bar?”
Harry leans all his body weight into him and Louis lets him. “With Niall and Nick.” He must smell the smoke on him. Nick smokes.
Louis hums. He trails a hand up Harry’s back to reach his hair, tugging his head back a bit to press his nose into his neck. Harry holds his breath when he inhales, but his eyes flutter when he leaves a kiss in its wake.
“Will you shower?” and it’s barely there, a whisper into the darkness.
Harry fails to say anything, too lost in the sweet kisses adorning his neck. He feels it when Louis squeezes his wrist tighter.
Louis nods, “Thank you,” and lets him go, heading in the direction of his room. Harry tries to read his eyes before he turns, but is only able to catch sight of relief and slight frustration.
It takes him a second to get his feet working again, but once he does, he forces himself to the bedroom. Louis has already made his way back to bed, just leaning against the headboard with the only light coming from his cell in his hands. Harry barely looks at him when he walks in, heading straight to the toilet. He can tell Louis is tired, never blames him for that, but he also senses something off-putting . . . something close to annoyance? Perhaps anger? Sure, he kisses him and stays on ‘his’ side of the bed (saving the left side for Harry), but he also seems to avoid eye contact almost completely. It’s unnerving.
Harry washes up beneath the water, shampooing and
deep conditioning. In the back of his mind, he scolds himself for this because he is taking his time on purpose, just giving his brain extra time to think about what Louis’ feeling.
He merely dries off his hair, not bothering with a blow dryer and thinks that he’s more sober than he ought to be for the given situation. He repeats It’s your Louis. When isn’t it okay? It’s your Louis. When isn’t it okay? but still feels his stomach twist when he climbs under the duvet.
He stays still for a moment, Louis facing opposite him.
Harry releases a breath he did not know he was holding when Louis finally turns and opens his arms.
He wordlessly moves into his chest and allows himself to breathe.
Harry closes his eyes and focuses on Louis’ arms around him. He nods. “You?”
“Now I am.”
Morning is much better.
Louis must wake up on the right side of the bed because when Harry goes to find him in the kitchen, it is to a fresh cuppa and avocado toast.
Harry scratches his hip and blinks. “You hate avocado.”
Louis grins, still barely awake if the puffiness of his eyes is any indication. “You don’t, though.”
Harry leans against the island opposite him. They just kind of . . . watch each other and it’s pleasant. Harry tries to ignore the veins in Louis' arms by taking a sip.
Louis pretends like he doesn’t miss the sleep-soft touch of Harry’s skin and grips the counter instead.
“Sorry I was a dick last night.”
Harry raises his brow, albeit not that surprised. He knew something was coming sooner or later.
“You weren’t,” he lies.
Harry shrugs. “You were," and they always end up here, in this same place, a continuous loop of What are we doing?
Harry’s blood is on the brink of heating and he clenches his teeth. “You always are, Louis.”
He has the audacity to look almost taken aback. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Harry puts his cup down and pinches his thumb into his palm. “It means that you’re always sorry.”
“Sounds like it means a bit more than that to you,” he waves his hand at Harry’s obvious discomfort.
“Jesus,” he scratches at his scalp, “maybe it does! Is that so horrible to admit?”
Louis looks emotionless when he crosses his arms and the simple movement makes him feel a thousand more miles away than he already did.
“You can feel however you like.”
“Oh, can I? How brave of you, Lou, really!”
Harry is beginning to throw his hands around and he can tell that it’s making Louis fidgety.
“I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about.” Lie.
Harry feels like pulling at his hair, here, half naked in the kitchen of Louis’ apartment that could be a house if he would commit to something other than his job. “Yes you do ! How could you not? I stand around waiting , all I ever do is wait for you, Louis!”
Louis stares blankly, speechless or ignorant, Harry is not sure, so he storms out.
Louis undeniably, with his entire chest, loves Harry. It is written in his bones, pressed into the crevices of his skin, and adorned on his heart. So why the fuck can’t he show him this love?
“That’s not the fucking issue here, Louis,” Niall sighs watching Louis take another shot. They’re sat in Niall’s den, Louis having showed up late the next night after not speaking to Harry all day.
“Yes it is! It fucking is ! I’m not nice to him! Not affectionate enough. He probably thinks I hate him!” Louis is trying his best not to cry.
“Mate,” Niall keeps shaking his head and it is really getting on his nerves, “he knows you love him, okay? Not even your hardass can hide that.”
He feels a tear and wipes it away faster than it can fall. “I don’t take care of him, though. I’m so awful to him, Niall. Always away for work, showing up to his when I get back without a word, getting angry at him when he hangs out with his friends just because I’m upset they get more of him than I do. I’m fucking pathetic.”
“Lou,” Niall moves closer to put an arm around him. “You aren’t pathetic. You’re in love. And you’re aware of your flaws, which is hard to admit.”
He shakes his head. “He’s too good for me. Always has been. Don’t deserve -”
“Stop right there.” Niall slaps his arm, to which he winces at. “You two love each other, okay? Of course you deserve love.”
Louis tries to calm his breathing. “It would have all been okay if we hadn’t fucking slept together. Now he’s all I want all the time I can’t even fucking wank, Ni!”
“Woah okay, okay. Don’t want to hear about your wanks, man. Good or bad. It seems to all come down to one thing, though. Communicate with him. I know he wants to.”
“What?” Louis stirs. “You’ve spoken to him?” Of course Harry would have talked to him, they both have the same mates, for the most part.
“I mean -”
Louis stands, hovering over Niall. “What did he say? Is he here?” He walks towards the guest room in Niall’s flat.
“ Jesus , Lou. No, he’s not here. He’s probably at home or work, the hell if I know. You should probably figure that out, though. You know . . . so you can talk to him yourself,” he urges.
He looks to the floor. “I don’t wanna lose him, Ni.”
And Niall makes it sound like the simplest thing on the earth when he says, “Then don’t.”
“He’s just such a dick sometimes. Am I wrong?”
Harry throws himself on Niall’s couch the day prior to Louis doing the same. Niall should be names a saint, honestly.
“No! He is! The worst part is he senses his dickness but then continues on with it anyway. It’s literally autopilot, no pun intended."
Niall does not deserve this headache, right now. And to make things even worse, he knows Louis will be not far behind Harry, chatting up his ear. He decides on, “Louis can be a bit . . . daft, sometimes,” and immediately wishes he didn’t.
Harry’s brows scrunch. “Daft? Louis’ not daft , Niall. He’s brilliant. He can fly planes, and he is responsible and takes great care of me when I don’t even know I want him to.”
“Right, so . . . .”
“He’s still a dick, though!” Harry huffs and Niall thinks he should be getting paid for this.
“Jesus christ. Listen . . . give it a day, alright? You guys will work it out, I know you will. You love each other.”
“I know,” he pauses, “I don’t wanna not talk to him but I just can’t right now.”
Niall brings him into a side hug because the frown on Harry’s face is too much to handle. “It’s only a day, mate. I know that’s a lot for you two, but you’ll survive. Might even help resolve things, yeah?”
In the back of his mind Harry knows that Niall is right, but he still hopes.
They do not speak, nor see each other, for two entire days. This is unheard of for them when both of them aren't working, and even though it is supposed to be for the better, the lump in Harry’s throat doesn’t want to dissipate.
Harry finally sees him at the bar for Niall’s birthday. He’s sat in the booth across from Sara, but he notices him when he gets in, being able to sense the subtle tension in the atmosphere. To make matters even worse, he looks so sexy . . . all quiffed up hair and tee elongated enough to make his collarbones visible.
He looks away when Louis’ eyes meet his, nodding to something Sara says that he fails to actually hear. He’s taking a drink when Louis makes his way to their booth. Harry thinks good choice when he takes a seat next to him, because he would probably be even more pissed if he sat in the empty seat next to Sara, across and away from him.
Louis and Sara greet, but Harry's face stays ahead.
“So, any new galleries coming up?” Sara can definitely sense something is off with the pair of them by the glance she gives Louis. She talks to the both of them, though, so Louis is nodding along politely. “Enough about me. How long you home for?”
Louis’ fingers twitch and Harry coughs.
“Erm,” and Louis rarely stutters, “about two weeks.”
Harry cannot help himself, then. He turns to him. “What?” Two weeks? Harry can’t remember the last time Louis had that much time at home, and the fact that he did not tell him?
“Uh- yeah.” Louis’ face looks slightly scared, yet trying to play it chilled.
Harry blinks at him for a few seconds, astounded, before turning to Sara. “Excuse me, just gonna grab another. Want anything?”
She shakes her head, looking understandably uncomfortable.
Harry doesn’t ask Louis for his drink order, just shuffles across his lap without a word to exit the booth. He feels hands on his waist and knows it’s instinctive, but it does not sting any less.
Harry is already halfway finished with his drink when Louis sidles up next to him. His expression would appear blank to anyone else, but Louis knows he is pissed; the straight set to his brow and the pinch of his lips is a telltale sign.
Louis calls over to order for himself, and Harry downs the rest of his drink, still staring straight ahead. He takes the risk of moving close enough so that their arms press together. Harry stays unmoving.
He takes a swig and pushes the rest down to Harry. “Take the rest.”
Harry complies and Louis waits for it to come. It doesn’t take all that long.
“Two fucking weeks, Louis,” he says unbelieving. His tone is seething as he shoulders passed Louis, making eye contact for only a brief moment.
“Haz,” he reaches out for him but Harry is quicker. He’s headed for the back exit and Louis follows him because it has been days and they need to resolve this before Louis loses his damn mind. He misses him.
When they exit the back door it’s bitter out for September. Louis only has a second to think about that though because Harry pushes at his chest.
“Two fucking weeks!” Louis only stumbles a little. He notices the goosebumps on Harry’s exposed chest but ignores his own.
“You’re bloody freezing. Let’s just go home and -”
Harry ignores him. “Home? Oh, that’s bloody rich .” He throws his arms up in frustration, a thing he always tends to do when upset. “When were you gonna tell me? Were you even planning on it?”
Louis rolls his eyes. “Jesus fuck, Harry! Of course I was gonna tell you.”
“Really? Because it really doesn’t seem like it.”
Louis tries to take a deep breath. “I only just found out a few days ago.”
“I was with you a few days ago, or have you forgotten already?” He looks frustrated enough that he could start crying, and Louis knows he bloody well may.
“Forget? You’re being so fucking daft! As if everyday with you isn’t unforgettable.”
Harry’s eyes look watery then, and Louis wishes so badly that they were home.
“Well, you really don’t make it obvious.” Lie. “If that were the truth, you would have told me that. You would have told me that you’re gonna be here for another two full weeks. Were you just not gonna tell anyone? Have me fucking worrying where in the world you are? What fucking country you could be in?”
“I don’t need to tell just anyone because you’re the only one to tell! Fuck!” Harry looks taken aback and there are definite tears now (from Louis, as well). “Who else do I see when I come home? No one. It’s only you, Harry when the fuck will you realize that?” Louis finally allows himself to touch him, it’s been too long. He wipes the tear from Harry’s cheek and rests their foreheads together. “You burn me. Everywhere I touch you burn.”
Harry’s mouth drops open like he plans to say something, but nothing comes out.
Louis pulls away and calls them a cab.
Louis’ hand stays on his thigh the ride back to his. Harry hooks their ankles together and they don’t speak.
Ultimately, Harry knows Louis is trying. He knows that Louis cares for him and would never do or say things to intentionally hurt him. It is all just a matter of what they are doing here because it is all becoming quite frustrating.
This thought makes Harry sigh aloud and Louis squeezes his leg tighter like he knows what he means.
Back at Harry’s, they shower and get into bed. The feeling of Harry with him again, back in his sheets, back in his arms, is something he is used to, but never accustomed to, missing. This time it feels more.
Harry turns to face him and Louis kisses his forehead. “Missed you a lot.”
Harry snorts on an inhale and when he adjusts his leg around Louis’ own, his skin stands up in goosebumps. “Missed your body heat, that’s for sure.”
“Oi!” Louis hugs him tighter. “Really, though.”
He situates so his head is on Louis’ pillow, their noses almost touching. “Always miss you. That’s probably part of the reason why I got so upset, honestly.” He strokes his fingers lightly through the sparse hairs adorning Louis' chest.
“Don’t think that’s why, love,” he tries softly.
Harry sighs for more than the first time that night. “Well, that’s a bit of it, of course. I just . . . didn’t know where I stand. Where we stand.”
Louis shakes his head. “Nothing is different at all. Nothing. We’ve always been us, haven’t we?”
He nods, but still appears adamant. “It’s a little different.”
He nudges their noses together because Harry stops looking at him. “How do you reckon?”
“It’s more . . . charged now.” Has Harry’s lashes always been that long?
“Because we fucked,” and Louis says it like a statement, too straight-faced for the sentence, so Harry knees his leg. “What did I do now?”
Harry’s laughing now, and if Louis’ personal harm makes him grin like this, he thinks he wouldn’t have that much of a problem with it. “You always gotta ruin the moment,” but he is still smiling, dimple and all.
. Is that what we were having? I can try again if you’d like.”
“Try what again?”
Louis meant try again to fix the moment, but if he can read Harry - and he absolutely can - that is definitely not what he is referring to.
“If any part of you thinks I wouldn’t want to do that again, you must not know me as well as we thought.”
He can tell Harry is trying to hold back his grin, he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “Was I the best you’ve ever had, Louis Tomlinson?”
Louis groans low in his throat because Harry does things to him. It even proves harder to control his emotions when he is like this, soft and freshly showered in bed with Louis o f all people. Proves the hardest though when he continues to rubs his nose up and down his cheek and his bare legs mingle with his own.
Louis settles a hand in the dip of Harry’s spine where it’s warm. Harry moves closer on instinct, their crotches touching, finally pressed together head to toe. “Think you already know the answer to that.”
Harry lets out an airy whine, like he has given up, and presses a hand to Louis’ cheek before going in for the kiss. It’s slow with lots of tongue and they are both getting stiffer by the minute, but they both choose to ignore it for the time being, too soft of a moment to abrupt.
When Harry pulls away, it’s to say, “Never wanna stop kissing you,” against his lips and Louis feels like he is floating in a river.
“Never have to.” He decides he wants to feel Harry on top of him, so he situates his body.
Harry lands with a huff, but goes back to leaning on his elbows besides Louis’ head. He begins running his fingers through the strands and Louis doesn’t even realize he closed his eyes until he hears, “Would kill anyone else who manhandled me like that, you know.”
He leaves his eyes closed. “I know. I would have had to, too.” There is a pause of the fingers in his hair, but it’s only to Harry moving his face into his neck and tucking his arms beneath Louis’ shoulders.
“Love you. So much.”
Louis’ entire body tingles and he pushes his feet up flat on the bed, causing Harry to bend his knees and straddle him a bit. The new position just brings them even more flushed against each other, and Harry gives a content sigh from it.
“Will never get tired of you . . . think we should make arrangements now to share a coffin? Tell them to position us just like this.” Louis roams his hands to cup Harry’s bum.
“Jesus,” he giggles into his neck, “that’s a tad morbid, Lou. Besides, you’re never going to die.” Louis feels it when he puckers his lips against his neck.
“You’re right. Sorry, babe.” Louis goes to put his hands somewhere more . . . appropriate, but Harry scolds him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He laughs, and resumes the position, not being one to argue in this scenario. “A fan of this position, are we?”
Harry hums in return and wiggles his ass back into Louis’ hands, therefore, causing their cocks to rub together . Louis holds back a wince. “‘M favorite.”
He agrees, “Could take it so well.” He thrusts his hips up once, just as an illusion. Harry opens his mouth on in inhale against his skin.
“Could sit on it for hours . . . think about it all the time.”
Louis nudges his face up to look at him and he does not have an ounce of shame on his face (not that he should). Louis decides for the thousandth time that he loves him.
He brushes Harry’s hair out of his eyes to behind his ear. “I would give it to you.”
Harry’s brows furrow. “I don’t wanna hear that you would . I wanna know if you will .”
Louis immediately corrects himself. “I will give it to you.”
That must be all it takes because Harry’s face splits in half. “Can’t wait. Love you. I’m tired now,” and promptly falls off Louis and onto his side. He reaches behind himself to get Louis’ arms back around him in a spoon.
“You’re so fucking weird,” he whispers into the back of his neck once he tucks his knees behind Harry’s. “Goodnight, my love.”
When Harry wakes up in the morning, he is in a much better mood than the morning prior.
Although he is drooling on Louis’ chest, he’s drooling on Louis’ chest and it is not like he rather be drooling anywhere else. Well, unless . . . .
He gently lifts his head up to see Louis’ head tilted, cheek pressed into the pillow that'll leave a mark that Harry subconsciously cannot wait to rub his fingers over. He looks so handsome, is the thing. It makes Harry sigh and slowly remove himself to make two cuppas.
Last night was one of the best he’s had in awhile and he feels as if him and Louis have never been closer. Plus, there is the tiny fact that Louis said he would finally fuck him proper (something that has been a long time coming, honesty). It feels like they are back to being simply them. Just Harry&Louis with no one else.
He waits on the sofa and turns on the reruns. He hears it when Louis looms behind the couch. He turns and the back of his head hits Louis’ bare abdomen. Harry puckers his lips, waiting.
Louis’ smile is sleepy when he leans down. He smells of Harry’s body wash and linen.
“Cuppa on the counter.”
Louis drops one more kiss before leaving to retrieve his tea. “Thanks, babe,” and his voice sounds so unbelievably sexy Harry has to pinch himself.
When he returns, he sits and lifts Harry’s legs to settle in his lap, Harry’s back resting against the arm of the couch. He looks at his sleep-ruffled hair and thinks about all the other ways he could make it look like that.
He lets his hand that isn’t holding the cup roam to his everywhere fringe. “Really get you for two full weeks, huh?”
Louis blows on his tea. “If you’ll have me.”
Harry gives him a dumb look. He is basically in his lap sideways now and wishes they’d be even closer.
“Just imagine all the shit we can get into with two weeks.”
Louis smiles and sets both their teas down to pull him entirely onto his lap, which Harry goes willingly, of course.
He kisses Harry's chin. “I don’t know . . . got lots of plans.”
Harry snorts and fusses with Louis’ hair some more and it is a mindless action. “Yeah, with your left hand, maybe.”
Louis squawks in retaliation, going to nibble beneath the hinge in Harry’s jaw. Harry makes hims stay there with his hands secured in the back strands of his hair. “With your left hand.”
Harry hums. “That can definitely be on the agenda . . . amongst other things.”
He makes a low noise in the back of his throat when he finishes sucking a love bite into Harry’s neck.
He pulls Louis away, but keeps his hands holding his face. He squishes Louis’ cheeks together, making him wrinkle adorably, and kisses his parted lips sweet. “What do you wanna do today? Gonna see your mum?”
“Yeah, defo. Just don’t know when quite yet.”
Harry frowns at him. “You haven’t told her yet, have you.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “I know, I know. I’m a horrible son. I’ll call her right now.”
“Never said that. You’re the best son . . . well, after me, of course.”
“Of course, ” he exaggerates and motions for Harry to hand him his phone from the side table. Harry obliges and keeps himself busy with the light hairs at the pit of Louis’ flank. He feels Louis’ stomach constrict at the touch. “Hey, mum! . . . Yeah, yeah doing amazing, actually,” he winks at him and Harry can never control his smile. “How are you? The girls and Ernie alright? . . . Ace.”
Louis is nodding along to whatever she’s saying, something about the youngest and their new school, and Harry would be lying if he were to say he is not turned on by his genuine attentiveness. He shakes himself out of it (for now) and waits patiently.
“So, I’m home for the next two weeks here . . . .” Louis pulls the phone away from his ear with a wince and Harry looks at him like I told you so . “I didn’t know for long, mum I promise . . . Yes, he knows,” his eyes flit to Harry, who raises his brows in question. “Yeah I’ll talk to him . . . Sounds good. See you soon. Love you, bye.”
Harry (very regretfully) removes himself from Louis’ lap to settle beside him. “So?”
He sighs, bringing Harry’s legs up into his lap. “Big family dinner. Big. ”
Harry raises his brows. “Big as in -”
“Anne and Gemma, as well, yes.”
Harry whistles. “Sounds like chaos. I kind of can’t wait.”
Louis chuckles, but can't help but agree. “Definite chaos. Next Friday night, I believe. Can you work around that?”
He nods, sure. “Of course. Would quit my job over this if I had to,” he exaggerates. “Haven’t seen everyone in awhile.” Their families, although so intertwined, are always on different busy schedules, so it is hard to get everyone together. “Oh! What should I make?”
“You mean what should we make.”
Harry cackles and Louis pinches his thigh in retaliation. “Yeah, right. Funny joke, though.”
Louis tackles him into the cushions and he probably deserves it.
It is five days later and Louis has yet to leave Harry’s. He decides he'll leave once he finds a reason to.
He is cleaning the dishes left from last night’s dinner. (Harry tried to clean them last night but Louis forced him onto the couch with a tub of chocolate mousse ice cream instead. He does not regret a thing).
In the midst of his cleaning, Harry texts Anything from the store?
Louis suddenly remembers that he told Harry to take his wallet before he went out, seeing as he basically lives with him, it was about time he finally took him up on the offer. But, of course, Louis finds his wallet right where it always is in the bowl by the front door.
I told you to take my wallet
And I told you no
He rolls his eyes. Harry is stubborn and so is Louis, but Harry takes it to an all new level. (Or maybe Louis is just weak).
I’m gonna hit you
Louis is one hundred percent convinced he is his soulmate.
He replies with a simple ;) and awaits Harry’s arrival.
When Harry walks through the door it feels like he has been gone for days, not hours. He barges in, somehow managing to line his arms all the way to the shoulder with grocery bags. Louis rushes to take some from him.
“Wanted to make it in one trip," he explains.
Louis chuckles a, “No shit,” and watches Harry flip his hair out of his eyes with a huff. His cheeks are tinted pink either from the chilly weather or dragging all those bags in, Louis isn’t sure, but he does know that he looks damn adorable .
He is just kind of blinking at Louis, waiting for him to go to him, and Louis has no issue obliging.
Louis pulls him in around the back and he catches Harry’s grin when he wraps his arms beneath his sides to hold onto his shoulders.
“I’m sad that you didn’t take my wallet.”
He digs his nose into the base of Louis’ neck. “You’ll get over it.”
“Don’t know,” Louis sighs. “Takes a lot for me to be forgiving.”
Harry groans into his skin and pushes his bottom half against Louis’ own. “Don’t tease me.”
Louis throws his head back in a laugh. Too easy. “But it’s just so fun !”
Harry is a sight, pouting like a little boy with a face full of days’ old scruff and wild hoodie hair. The pout soon turns into a yawn. “Think I want a nap.”
Louis nods. “Yeah, babe. Go. I’ll handle these,” he waves at the groceries.
Harry kisses his cheek in gratitude. “Thank you. Join me when you’re done though, yeah?”
“‘Course,” he agrees, but knowing full well Harry will be asleep the second his head hits the pillow.
Once all the dishes are clean, Louis finds him struggling on the bed with the zipper of his jeans. He stands back and watches for a moment, letting his amusement get the best of him. Harry doesn't wear skinny jeans as often as he used to, his fashion sense changing drastically over the years, but Louis will admit he selfishly missed watching him struggle out of the tight pants.
“Those aren’t even tight ones, love.” He has to chuckle as he makes his way over to the bed.
Harry huffs, throwing his arms by his sides in defeat. “I know. It’s the fuckin’ zipper .”
Louis is still laughing as he stands over him, trying to undo the zip. “Thought you’d be out by the time I was done, but . . . .” It does take him a few tries to get it, but the deed is done and Harry is sighing happily and pushing the jeans down his legs. All Louis’ brain cares about processing at the moment is the soft muscle of Harry’s thighs.
“ Should have been out, but I -”
“Can’t sleep in jeans, I know.”
Harry turns his head over his shoulder to peak up at him. “I can sleep in any environment just fine except for one.”
“Oh?” Louis is still just kind of standing beside him on the bed, but it is easier for him to poke and prod at his cheeks this way.
Harry hums, pressing his lips to the finger poking at him. “Can’t sleep as well as I’d like without you, no.”
Louis rolls his eyes dramatically to tease, but in reality, his heart dances in his chest a bit.
“Sooo cheesy today little lad,” and Louis says it into his neck when he finally gets into the bed. He is a top him with his hands slid up Harry’s tee to hold his sides. He’s getting Harry’s neck extra slobbery, just for the sake of being a nuisance.
Harry’s smiling so wide Louis can feel his chin tripling against his lips. “I’m not your lad . I’m your bro .”
Louis squawks out an embarrassing laugh and presses into it when Harry settles his hands in his hair. “My very best pal .”
Louis stops blowing raspberries to look at him. Harry’s eyes follow his own hand as he fixes Louis’ fringe out of his eyes. “My favorite dude .”
Louis kisses the corner of his mouth and his cheeks dimple. He’s so much older now; all soft eyes and long smiles, yet the same freckles on his nose and beneath his eye. The same look he gives Louis that says we’re everything, aren’t we?
They have been looking at each other for a strange amount of time, but neither of them seem to notice. Harry is still indulged with Louis’ hair and Louis is so entranced by the sensation of Harry’s fingertips on his scalp that his eyes are barely open.
“Lay down,” Harry pushes Louis’ head down to his chest. “Sleep. Wanna hold you.”
Louis closes his eyes and follows. He straight out moans when Harry moves one hand down to scratch at his back beneath his shirt. He is usually the one holding Harry solely because it is just muscle memory, but when times like come around, Louis feels like pure putty in his hands.
“Love you, baby.”
Harry wraps a leg around him to rest on the back of Louis’ bum. “Love you.”
“Louis, we’re literally gonna be so late!”
“ Literally so late, huh?” He comes up behind him and Harry jumps in surprise. Louis finishes putting his shoe on and Harry crosses his arms, impatient.
“I don’t wanna hear it when our mums complain and -”
“Harry, babe,” Louis takes his face in his hands and tries to not think about how sexy he looks with facial hair, “if you stop talking and we leave right now we won’t be late.”
He frowns at Louis and moves quick to twist his nipple, then running out the front door before Louis can reach him.
Of course, he forgets his phone and wallet, so Louis grabs it and reminds himself to give Harry shit for it later.
Then - as soon as he gets in the driver’s seat - “Shit. I left the lemon bars," Harry pouts at him pleadingly, all comfortable in his seat.
Louis blinks. “I hate you. Genuinely hate you.”
Harry blows him a kiss.
About halfway to Doncaster, Harry reaches for his phone. Louis is too good to him.
“Fuck.” He starts patting his pockets.
“What is it?” Louis asks, eyes still on the road.
“Think I left my phone.”
Harry struggles for approximately forty-five seconds before Louis starts digging in his own pocket, dropping Harry’s phone on his lap. Louis digs in his other pocket “. . . and this.” He throws Harry’s wallet at his chest, looking entirely too smug.
He rolls his eyes at Louis’ smirk. “Knew I should have brought my purse.”
At the dinner table, Doris refuses to sit anywhere besides next to Harry. This, of course, causes Louis' insides to dance and he squeezes Harry’s thigh and doesn't remove his hand for the entirety of the meal. Once Harry helps Doris fill her plate, he lets his hand travel down to rest a top Louis’.
“You look so well-rested, Lou. What have you been doing with your time off? Staying in, I hope,” Jay presumes.
“Uh,” Louis starts and bites his tongue when Harry rubs his thumb over his knuckles. Harry makes me well-rested. Harry Harry Harry. “Me and Haz just been hanging out like always. Nothing new, really.”
“Been doing his laundry for him and everything,” Harry buds in and he is not even exaggerating, but also not complaining in the slightest.
“Louis-” Jay begins to warn.
“I don’t mind," Harry interjects and turns to look at Louis, eyes light and white shirt stained from something most likely Doris-related. “We take care of each other.”
Anne coos, “Always have,” and Gemma looks between the two of them searchingly.
After a long night of board games, Doris’ dirty fingers in Harry’s hair, and a glass of wine, they are finally set to drive back home.
“Please drive safe, my loves.” Anne brings them both into a hug.
“Don’t fall asleep behind the wheel,” Jay muses, pinching Louis’ cheek.
“Jesus, mum,” Louis slides away, but he runs into Harry right behind him, always close. He wraps an arm around his waist, holding him to his side.
Anne and Jay look at their sons for a moment, and they both know, of course . . . always have because a mother's instinct and all that.
“Try to keep your hands off him when you’re driving, Lou,” Anne's warning is teasing. “Need both of my babies home in one piece.”
“Muuuum,” Harry whines and sidles closer to Louis anyway.
Louis laughs and kisses his temple quick. “No promises on the first part, but think I can manage the rest.”
Saying their final goodbyes to everyone else, Louis cannot wait to be back in their bed.
As soon as they get in the front door at a late one in the morning, Harry collapses into him. Louis, thankfully being used to Harry’s dramatics, catches him with little surprise.
“That was exhausting .”
Louis chuckles his agreement and settles a hand in Harry’s hair. “Love them to bits, but just wanna be with you after all that.”
Harry hums his agreement and tries to settle the absolute adornment he possess for Louis that is bubbling in his chest.
“Doris pulling at my hair is great and all, but I prefer another Tomlinson sibling.” Harry knows Louis is prideful over a damn toddler by the way his posture straightens.
But, yet again, he has to ruin the mood. “You know who looked really hot tonight? Gemma.”
“Jesus. Shut the fuck up.” Harry struggles out of his grip by pushing at his chest.
Louis does not let him get far, though, something that Harry had planned to happen, anyway.
“You look just like her, babe. It’s a compliment .” Louis digs his fingers into his sides and wiggles his nose into his neck.
“A backhanded compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” Harry crosses his arms across his chest and holds back his smile when Louis presses his full body behind him.
“You know I think you’re the prettiest of the bunch. Prettiest ever , even.”
Harry turns in his hold and Louis really does look so happy and Jay was right. “Your mom was right. You do look good . . . well-rested. Happy.”
Louis nuzzles into Harry’s palm that is caressing his cheek. “Have no idea why that would be. Besides the time off work, of course.”
“Of course,” Harry agrees, but feels his lips tugging at the corners. Louis’ eyes flick between his eyes and lips and Harry rolls his eyes at his lack of concentration.
Louis frowns and puckers his lips.
Harry is no one to deny him. Louis tastes especially like home tonight. Everything they feel is written in the seal of their kiss and Harry never wants the seal to break.
“You’re so warm.”
“Am I?” Harry tucks his hands beneath Louis’ shirt.
He hums. “My little space heater.”
Harry scoffs. “Do you see this facial hair? It’s meant for keeping things warm.” He demonstrates by grabbing Louis’ face and rubbing himself all over his cheeks.
“Please,” Louis laughs, “I think we both know who has the strongest beard game, love.”
“ Sexiest game, definitely.”
“You’re plenty sexy.”
“Am I?” Harry tilts his head back to look at him easier. He feels Louis’ palms rest beneath his shirt, right above his bum.
“You know you are, can barely keep my hands off you. Even your mum noticed.”
Harry grins happy, like he is not completely and utterly getting hard in his pants from just Louis’ hands near his bum and breath against his cheek. His dick was even able to ignore the mention of his mum, for christ's sake. “Don’t think I’d be very happy with you if you did.”
“Well, can’t have you upset with me, now, can I?” Louis winks and removes his hands from him, which almost makes Harry scold him, but he then takes his hand instead.
Harry follows him because his mind and body don’t know any better. “Absolutely not. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.”
“You’re right, baby.” He just kind of keeps agreeing with everything Harry is saying and Harry thinks he can get used to this. “Lay down, please.”
“Oh, please, huh?” Harry spreads starfish on the bed, but entraps Louis with his legs so he can still feel him close. He becomes confused when he doesn’t feel Louis’ weight on top of him. “Why are you so far away?”
“Relax,” Louis chuckles, finally dropping down on top of him. He gets a face full of handsome blue eyes and strong cheekbones and thinks he wants to take off work one day to count Louis’ eyelashes instead. “Do you even know how hot you looked today?”
Harry raises his brow, raking his eyes over Louis' own body. “No, but you sure as hell can tell me.”
His smile reaches his eyes when he kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Stunning . . . just wanna make you as happy as you looked today all the time.”
Harry knows he could weep right now, but tells himself it is not the time. He brushes Louis’ fringe away. “You already do. Always have, always will.”
“Just-” Louis cuts himself off and Harry is confused.
“It’s okay.” Harry takes his head in his hands, encouraging him to continue with whatever he’s trying to get out. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Louis' reply is instant, a no brainer. “Just don’t feel like it’s enough . . . like what I have for you isn’t enough. You’re just so much and I-”
“Perfect for me, Louis.” Harry shakes his head at Louis even thinking such falseness. “I don’t want - don’t need - anything else. Haven’t needed anything else since I arrived.” Harry watches Louis kiss his thumb that hover over his lips. “You were here already, waiting for me,” he refers to their four year age gap.
Louis chokes out a laugh. “I kind of was, wasn’t I?”
Harry laughs now, too. “Don’t know any better. You haven’t left me the fuck alone for twenty-five years, Louis Tomlinson.”
They are both cackling into each other now. Harry wraps his legs fully around Louis to pull him closer. “Please, like you didn’t like the attention.”
Harry hums when Louis rests his full weight against him. He lets himself focus on the feeling of Louis’ lower half pressing into his thigh. “I did. Think that’s why I’m so clingy to you now, I‘ve been spoiled. You’ve ruined me!”
“Perhaps.” Louis kisses his ear and it makes him mewl. “Wanna make you make all the noises.”
Harry holds the back of Louis’ neck as he licks his way across Harry’s throat. He smells like Harry’s laundry detergent (because he has yet to be at his own place) and it makes him hold on tighter. “Please. Want to be close as possible to you. ‘S all I want.”
He says it and knows that Louis understands what he means. “Yeah?” But, he also knows Louis wants him to beg for the only thing he has yet to give him.
He kisses the spot beneath Louis’ ear soft. “Need to know what you feel like, Lou.”
“Fuck,” and it is like everything is suddenly in motion, “I can’t do this any longer. Need you so bad.”
God, yes! Harry literally whines aloud at Louis’ words. “Oh, my god, yes . Please , Lou,” and . . . it is all pretty frantic after that.
Louis kisses him hard and Harry’s mouth falls open, just wanting to take take take literally whatever Louis gives him. It doesn’t take long for Louis to get them both undressed and kiss his way down Harry’s body, only stopping to give his dick one quick lick. “Lube.”
“You know where it is,” and Harry is already breathless because it’s true and he really cannot believe he finally gets to feel this, something he has only been waiting for since he was at least eighteen.
Louis is thorough with opening him up, something that is all too hot on its own. Harry keeps his hands tucked in Louis’ fringe, looking in his eyes every time he asks, “You okay?” or praises, “Disappears so pretty, Harry,” and, “Can’t wait to feel you drip around my cock,” which really just - yeah. Harry cannot breathe, probably.
“Holy fuck . That’s enough. Get in me, get in me, get in me .”
“Okay, okay,” Louis scurries up. “Grab the condom on the -”
“Absolutely fucking not .”
Louis pauses. “What?”
“I have been waiting for this for years . I’m not about to not feel just you .”
“Well, have you been fucking around while we -”
“ No, ” Louis is quick to answer and Harry almost feels smug. “God. Don’t remember the last time I’ve fucked someone. Just fucking blowjobs with you is more than anything I’ve ever felt.”
Harry reaches down to tug Louis’ cock then because god, does he feel the same and Louis’ cock was looking a little sad without Harry's hand to accompany it. “It’s settled, then.” He brings him into another fiery kiss as he works Louis’ cock, spreading the precome with his thumb. “God, I wanna suck you.”
“Won’t last three minutes if you do that. Think I’m plenty wet enough, yeah?” He keeps watching Harry’s hand around him and it should not be as hot as it is.
“Gonna get you even wetter inside.”
Louis curses his agreeance and moves Harry’s leg up for a better angle. “Want it like this?”
“Yeah, first. Wanna see you.”
Louis nods and begins to insert the tip, not too much at once. “Fuck, this is not going to last long.”
“Jesus, c’mon, Lou. I won’t fucking break.”
Louis groans and they are both trying to watch what is happening, intrigued with everything that’s finally happening. In some ways, it would be considered unsexy, but right now, Harry has never been more turned on in his entire life.
“Wanna break you,” he eventually bottoms out and Harry needs to hold his breath on a choke. “Split you in half, put you back together.”
“ Shit,” Harry scratches at his back, “move. You can move.”
He starts slow and deep, just how Harry expected him to, and the drag is euphoric and intimate and everything he has been yearning for. “Feels so fucking good.” He drops his head against Harry's collarbone on a down thrust and Harry fists a hand in Louis’ hair. “Is this good for you?”
Harry tries to keep his breathing even, but to no avail. “Are you fucking kidding?” He clenches around him. “So good, you’re so good.”
“Christ.” He’s becoming restless now, with the way is thrusts become slightly quicker and shallow.
“That’s it . . . harder . I love you,” Harry thinks he talks into his ear, but he really isn't sure because his eyes are feeling watery and he knows he is gonna come the second Louis does.
“Oh, my god. I’m gonna come so hard.”
“ Yes. Want it all, Lou.”
A, “Come with me,” and a thumb pressing into his tip is all it takes for Harry, and that sight alone is all it takes for Louis.
They spend the next night at Niall's.
After a morning shower together, Harry had to go in to work for a bit, but they both agreed to meet back up at Niall’s later tonight.
Harry walks in and Louis’ eyes find him immediately. He gives him a secret smile before greeting everyone else. Louis, like the obsessive that he is, watches Harry roam around in his flared pants and tight shirt. Shaking hands and sharing hugs, Louis’ own fingers twitch for the feeling.
But, Louis is an adult and waits patiently off to the side, simply enjoying watching Harry light up the room.
When he finally reaches him, he looks refreshed and happy. Louis tells his ego it isn’t his own doing.
“Hey,” he speaks soft.
Louis touches his side over the thin shirt in greeting and wishes it was his smooth skin he greeted instead. “Hi.” He is staring at Harry like a lunatic, he knows, but he is entirely too fucking pretty. “You look -”
Louis cackles. “Stop. I was going to say pretty.”
Harry smiles triumphantly and fixes the strings on Louis’ jumper.
“Will you lot stop fucking in my house and come play pong?” Niall rudely interrupts.
“ Pong? Are we back in fuckin’ uni?”
Harry gives him a warning look. "Just do it. C'mon," and takes his hand to drag him over with Niall and how is Louis supposed to deny him of anything.
“You never went to uni, Louis. Ya gotta experience The Pong,” Niall finishes with setting up the beer-filled cups.
“We played plenty at the academy, you cheeky shit. Wait and see.” Louis rubs his hands together in an attempt to get them warmed up and Harry is looking at him like he has got three heads.
“The fact that you are so genuinely serious about this is is so funny.” Harry tries to hold back a smirk.
“Sorry, Haz . . . you’re in it to lose with this one, mate,” Niall interjects once again.
“Oi!” Louis gives Niall the finger before bringing an arm around Harry’s hip. “Me and Haz got this shit underlock, right, babe?”
Harry shrugs. “I sure do, don’t know if I can say the same for you, though.”
Louis hip checks him. “Even me own boy against me! I blame you,” he points at Niall.
“Sush,” Harry giggles, moving in to give him a peck on the cheek that admittedly does help matters a tiny bit. “Someone’s gotta fraternize with the enemy, yeah?”
Louis tilts his head. “Not sure that’s how it goes.”
Niall interrupts them and they both throw the balls at once to see who goes first. Louis gets to go first, which he already brags about, but then misses his shot, anyway. It is a long game of going back and forth and at the end it is actually a close game.
Harry is drinking the second to last cup with a horrid look on his face that Louis pities him. “This is so fucking disugsting.” Niall is laughing at him, but Louis knows he really hates this beer, preferring other yagers.
“Here, gimme.” He takes the cup from Harry and downs the rest, wiping off his mouth. Louis pats his bum, “You’re up, love.” Harry’s eyes look dark and Louis remembers that look from last night vividly , but he would not mind having Harry remind him.
They end up winning on the redemption cup with Harry’s shot. “ Yes! ”
“Fuckin’ get in , baby!” They high-five and try to makeup a bro-handshake-thing, but just end up laughing with the mix of alcohol in their veins.
Olly, being Niall’s partner, could not be more uninterested with the loss, too out of it to give a shit, but Niall throws his cup down defeatedly after chugging the last one. “Fucking wankers.”
Harry runs over to give Niall a hug because of course he does. And Niall is only human, and no one can refuse hugs from Harry’s sentimental face. “You put up a tough game, Ni. You really did.”
“Thanks, Haz. If only Louis had the sportsmanship that you do,” Niall sighs, dramatic.
“I know,” Harry releases Niall, but still keeps a hand on his shoulder. “I have to be the kindred for the both of us.”
Louis needs to put a stop to this immediately. “Alright, you two. Think that’s enough of that!” He pulls Harry towards him, but Harry is still laughing with Niall at his distress.
“What’s wrong, Lou? We won! Nothing to be frowning about!” Harry pulls the corner of Louis’ mouth up with his finger.
He squeezes Harry’s side, so he knows he is not actually annoyed, and goes to give Niall the finger but Harry stops his hand by intertwining their fingers. Louis is plenty distracted from Niall after that.
Louis is spending the day with Lottie when Harry texts him.
I didn’t buy you that shirt
He is immediately confused. What are you talking about ??
The one in the pic that Lots just sent me
“You little bugger.” Louis nudges her foot beneath the table at the side street cafe. The weather is just warm enough to eat outside.
She shrugs, already knowing what he is referring to, and takes a sip of her drink. “You looked good. You’re welcome.”
“Let me see the picture then.”
Lottie rolls her eyes. “You’ll see it when you go home. I’m sure it’s already his lock screen.”
You didn’t? I thought you did . . . .
Harry replies with the angry devil emoji.
“What are you smiling about?” Lottie questions.
“Haz upset that he didn’t buy this shirt for me.”
Louis waves his hand. “Just because I have better taste than him.”
“I wouldn’t go that far . . . .”
Louis kicks her shin again and goes back to his phone.
Bought it cos I knew you’d like it
Another angry devil face.
You look so pretty today Louis tries.
You haven’t seen me today and Louis sighs at the fact.
Will definitely be changing that shortly
I don’t recall inviting you over
“He’s sassy today . . . kinda turning me on.”
“ God. Gross, Lou.”
He decides to ignore his sister for the time being.
Kinda how I don’t recall you giving me a key
I changed the code
To what ? 1224 ?
. . . . Fuck off
Louis’ birthday, of course. xx See you tonight
Harry was moody all morning, but as soon as he walks through the door, Louis understands why.
“Louis!” He shouts, sound coming from what he thinks is the living room.
“Yeah!” Louis yells back, bending down to untie his shoes (he knew he should of worn vans).
“I’m so horny!” Harry calls back and Louis trips over his own shoes laughing. “I can literally hear you laughing and can’t figure out why seeing as me being horny would definitely involve you!” Louis follows his voice down the hallway. “But if you think it’s just a funny joke I can gladly take care of the dilemma myself!” He is sneaky when he enters the room, Harry not seeing him. He’s got his arm covered over his eyes, laid out on the couch. His shirt is rucked up enough to see his belly button and Louis has the urge to blow a raspberry into it. “What are you doing? Are you ignoring me?”
Harry huffs a sigh and Louis has to cover his mouth as not to laugh.
He waits another second before pouncing on the couch at Harry’s feet. He yelps in shock and his eyes bug out of his head as he kicks his legs out in self defense.
Louis is absolutely dying, catching Harry’s ankles in his hands quick enough so he doesn't take him out.
“ Fu ck!” Harry registers him. " Why are you like this?”
Louis is still catching his breath when he crawls up between his legs. He bends Harry’s legs at the knee so his feet can rest flat against the cushions. “Was just trying to scare the horny out of you.”
Harry blows a piece of hair out of his eye and directs his gaze down to his crotch before pointedly looking back up at Louis. “Doesn’t look like your plan worked, pal.”
Louis rolls his eyes, but presses his lower half against him anyway. He revels in Harry’s sound of slight relief. “What’s got you so worked up, anyway, hm?”
Harry tries to grind his hips up, but Louis gives him a stern glare, holding his hip down with his hand. “I don’t know. Missed you. Haven’t seen you all day.”
“I also haven’t seen you all day. You don’t see me being a little brat now, do you?” He slides his hand up Harry’s shirt to flick his nipple. “Texting my sister, begging for pictures of me . . . did you do that, Harry?” Damn it all to hell if Louis isn’t chubbing up in his pants.
Harry’s mouth falls open and Louis thinks of stuffing his fingers in it, but holds off. “Didn’t beg. Only beg for you.”
Louis is proud of that answer and lets him buck his hips up. “That’s right. And what are you gonna beg for now?”
Harry’s eyes are dark when he replies, “Gonna beg for you to take me from behind, fuck me into this couch.”
“Jesus christ .”
Harry bites his lip to hide his grin and pulls Louis down by the neck. He kisses bruising and wet and yeah, Harry really is in a mood - a mood that Louis would not mind getting used to.
“ Hard, ” Harry is whining as he grinds against Louis’ still clothed cock. “Want it hard.”
“ Fuck , okay. Yeah, give you whatever you need. Turn over, lovely.” Harry does so quick, sliding off the couch to get on the floor and oh they’re doing it this way . . . . Louis was expecting just laying on the couch horizontally, but this . . . this could be fun. “Want literally fucked into the couch, do you?”
“ God , please. Want it rough, wanna feel you for days , Louis I’m serious.” He makes work of getting his bottom half naked, then promptly pushes his bum high in the air and Louis just . . . forgets how to move.
“I can’t believe you,” he shakes his head, getting down on his own knees. He spreads his palms over Harry. “Arch so beautifully, baby.”
Harry hums and wiggles his gorgeous bum.
“Wanna get you wet myself. Is that okay?”
“You mean . . . ?”
“Fuck, yeah. Bet you taste so good.” He spreads his cheeks to see his tiny hole.
“ Yes, please do it - oh, my god.”
Louis presses a kiss to his cheek, rubs his nose over the spot. He speaks against Harry’s hole, “Want my tongue, sweetheart?”
Harry shoves his hips back so Louis’ face is between his cheeks. “Do it, do it, do it, do it -”
Louis interrupts him with a kitten lick that has Harry pause. He is oddly silent for the first few licks, and when Louis looks away to check on him, his face is pressed into his arms. “Okay?”
“ Deeper ,” his voice sounds so rough. Louis licks him open like it’s his favorite meal. Harry eventually becomes loud, rocking himself back onto Louis’ tongue. Louis adds a bit of lube that he slipped in his pocket beforehand to slide two fingers in alongside his tongue. “Holy shit I have never felt something so good in my sorry excuse of a life until now.”
Louis would laugh if his mouth was not otherwise occupied. “Ready for me?”
Louis comes hard to the mix of Harry’s whines and hip swivels.
Harry, not that different from Louis, came so hard that he cried at how purely good it felt. Louis was so worried he did something wrong that he was on the bridge of crying himself before Harry collapses around him.
“Did I hurt you?” Louis frowns at the redness of Harry’s bum, running his fingertips lightly over the swell of his cheeks.
Harry, from his position now laying across Louis’ thighs and turns his head to look at him over his shoulder. “I would have told you if you were. I loved it.” Harry wiggles himself down so he has a faceful of Louis’ naked thighs.
“It’s definitely gross down there, babe.” He feels Louis’ hands in his hair and almost laughs that he would ever think the come drying between the both of them would stop Harry from wanting to leave bruises all over him.
“Don’t care.” He sucks the meaty skin of Louis’ thighs into his mouth, biting and leaving marks where he can reach. Louis tightens his fingers in Harry’s curls and hisses every now and again.
They have finally moved to bed for the night, showered and refreshed. Harry puts a Simon & Garfunkel record on vinyl and lights a candle before shutting the lights off. He meets Louis’ open arms once he gets beneath the covers, lets his head weigh down Louis’ chest.
“We can’t fall asleep with that candle lit.”
Harry slings his bare leg over Louis’. He silently thanks himself for cleaning the sheets. “Don’t let me.”
“Won’t,” Louis agrees.
Minutes or hours pass, and Harry thinks he may be asleep, but he tries anyway. “Will you stay with me?”
Harry feels it when Louis swallows. “For always.”
He taps his fingers to the soft music against Louis’ abdomen. “No, I mean - like - will you stay tomorrow and the days after that?”
Louis does not even falter. “All the days after that.”
Harry’s mouth cracks. He presses his lips against Louis’ chest and leaves them there. “Okay.”
Louis speaks into his hair. “I don’t know what to do with my hands when I’m not touching you.”
Harry hums and knows the feeling. “Better touch me, then. Wouldn’t want you being confused.”
“That’s very charitable of you.”
Harry huffs a laugh. “Go to sleep.”
“Blow out the candle," Louis fights back.
He groans and gets up anyway, but not without looking over his shoulder to wink an, “I’ll blow you, ” with his ass pushed out as he bends down to blow out the candle.
Louis chuckles and Harry is attentive to even the way the sheets sound when Louis is moving in them. “We’ll save that for the morning.”