They were both respectively 17 and 19 when they decided that their mutual attraction for each other was past simple teenage horniness. So, instead of quickie sex all the time, they had quickie sex and longie sex all the time - or whatever you want to call it. It doesn't make much difference to them despite the fact that Harry and Louis were both easily transitioned into the honeymoon phase of things behind the shadows of fame - they kept their relationship hidden, of course.
But you see, keeping things hidden wasn't so easy when you had a perfectly horny, whiny 17 year old boy in the palm of your hand just the same as he had an all too compliant 19 year old wrapped around his finger. So, yeah they nearly got caught a few times - from friends, family, co-workers, mates, strangers; I mean you name it and they'll probably tell you yes, they indeed have (almost) been caught by whoever or whatever you may suggest. And it's not like anyone ever really wanted to stick around to tell them "Hey, quit the hanky-panky, 'k?", so they can't really say who they'veactually been caught by.
So, they lived to tell the tales of their many sexual endeavors and create more without a moment's hesitation. And they did - tell them, that is - much to the discontent of their unfortunate pals. (And if you think the aforesaid clarification of telling them is all they did they'd probably laugh at you.) And they - Louis - always liked to start out in a dramatic fashion, and sometimes he and Harry would randomly recount the events of past memories that were just all too good to forget when they were together in their room at night.
And so they lay here again, supposedly watching a movie that was long forgotten about after the first five minutes, taking gentle pleasure in reliving the truly raunchy memories.
"Do you remember that one time we were at one of them meetings and you were so whiny you begged me to fuck you in the loo?"
Harry isn't bashful when he admits with a grin that he in fact does remember that one time and Louis doesn't quite care whether he remembers it or not as he rehashes the memory.
It was a rather decent day until they were forced awake at six in the morning. And, if you asked Louis, he'd tell you the day is always bound to be good until one gets awaken, so Harry wouldn't suggest questioning him any further about what good a couple extra hours of sleep would do if the day turned out disastrous. So don't ask.
The meeting started at seven and went to twelve, lunch break, then back again at three and Louis was doing a pretty good job of mentally murdering each and every person in the room with his glare the entire time. It could literally kill someone if they looked too long, so no one besides Harry dared look any longer than a quick lock-and-avert eye contact entailed.
He cuddled into his neck and rested his hand on his thigh, but that was alright because they're supposed to be best friends and best-friendships sometimes turn into to strong bromances and no one needs to know that they love each other, they're just really good friends who have wildlygood sex too many times a day to count. It's all good.
Harry was persistent even past the shoves Louis gave him to get off his shoulder, and when Louis scooted in Harry secretly wrapped his arms around his waist and enjoyed the feeling that was Louis without enjoying it too much because if Harry was honest with himself he'd be kissing Louis' neck up, down, sideways, and all around in front of all of these people without a care in the world if it weren't for the looming threat of permanent separation in public and private life because really he loves Louis and he doesn't know what he would do if they took him away from him - is it so wrong that he just really wants to kiss him right now and, gay? Who's gay? No one in One Direction is gay oh certainly not.
So Harry cuddles himself back into Lou's neck because it's a little chilly in the board room and Louis' really tiny and warm and Harry just really likes to cuddle him and Louis looks like he needs a cuddle right now and, well, what would that show of Harry if he didn't oblige? Harry would also like to add that he might be a little tiny bit hard in his jeans and maybe really wanting Louis at this time, but, again, it's probably just really early and his body doesn't know what it feels yet other than groggy and cuddly and perhaps a bit woody. Plus, gay? Who's gay?
It's lunch time when the boys are finally granted some space and fresh air from that dreaded meeting room they all hate. When they're all dismissed, Louis' the first one out of the room, scooting out and getting up quite roughly, not paying any mind to Harry who was practically thrown to the floor by the harsh movements. The boys all just stare, but no one else in the room seems to take notice of the chap's weird behavior and it doesn't take long for Harry to dust off and jog after him.
It only takes Harry fifteen minutes to locate a rather bothered looking Louis in the bathroom, running his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner before he turns around and shoves his back against the door.
Harry lets out a surprised yelp - Louis' grip is hard (and, okay, Harry wasn't exactly expecting that).
Louis' eyes are shut in frustration as the forefinger and thumb of his right hand squeeze against the bridge of his nose and the other grips at Harry's bicep. "What the hell is wrong with you, Harry?"
Harry doesn't know what to say.
"Do you realize," he continues, eyes still closed and hands still in place, "How hard it was to act put off by everyone - how hard you made me?Literally?" Harry's a bit breathless now as he imagines angry Louis taking him - right here, right now where anyone can walk in on them and catch the two horny teens going at it. It's always been a sort of kink for Harry, public places. The thrill of knowing they could get caught at any moment just gets him going. Harry tries really hard to focus on Louis without being sexual about it.
"Go on then! Have you got anything to say for yourself?" Louis' grip hasn't let up but he's now looking Harry directly in the eye and Harry doesn't think he can be more turned on as he lets out a moan in response.
"Fuck me, Lou, please. Please, please, please - right here, promise I'll be good for you, promise I will, please." Harry's pleading and babbling and he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if Louis rejected his request, but he might just cry if Louis doesn't do something soon - like, right now.
"Fuck," Louis wasn't expecting this response, but then again he never knows what to expect from Harry, so, really, it shouldn't be as much of a surprise as it is.
"Please Lou, I'll suck you off - you don't even have to touch me! I'll suck you off just how you like, yeah? Please Lou, I need you, please, please, please-"
"Shut up, Harry." Louis mutters under his breath before their lips smash together in a heated kiss - Harry's always had a problem with unashamedly whining for sex and Louis' always had a problem with getting much too hard at that.
"Want me to take you, then? Here in this dirty loo, yeah? Don't even care where we are, do you? Just want my cock up your ass?" Harry nods eagerly and Louis curses under his breath because there are people around and this is a public restroom and fuck, Harry looks amazing all worked up with swollen lips and pleading eyes that look like they'd do just about anything for a good fucking.
"Well, come on then - get in a stall!" Louis finally lets go of Harry and pulls him from the door, pushing him in the direction of the third stall. Harry stumbles forward easily. When they get in the tiny confinement he sits Harry down and locks the stall door just to be safe. When he turns around he sees Harry staring up at him like a hopeful puppy obediently waiting for his owner to give him a treat or at least not scold him for something he's done wrong - and in the moment Louis finds himself wishing that, even if just as friends, they'll always be together. Harry's lips are red and shiny and swollen and he looks so fuckable right now that Louis' not sure how he's made it this long without having his way with him. Why, it's already twelve in the afternoon!
"What do you want, Harry? Want me to take you in this stall?" Harry nods his head silently. "You've got to speak up, babe."
Harry gets harder at that and tries desperately not to let his eyes roll back in a moan as he responds. "Want you to fuck my mouth."
Harry's words are sent straight to Louis' cock and it's his turn to bite back a moan. "Fuck" is all he whispers, his eyes momentarily closing as he tries to calm himself. "You sure?" Harry nods. "Alright babe just - let me know if I'm going too hard or you need to breathe or something, okay?" Harry nods twice as eagerly as he did before and Louis begins removing his joggers until they're lying in a pool around his ankles.
Noticing his hands at his briefs, Harry stops Louis before he can act any further. He clears his throat, "I wanted to take 'em off." Harry clarifies, Louis looking at him curiously before Harry gets on his knees and removes Louis' briefs. Louis can only manage a small nod before he has to bite back another moan, the cool bathroom air giving him chills as it meets his now restraint-free cock.
"Go on," Louis encourages softly as Harry takes it in his hand appreciatively, but cautiously, the other going promptly on Louis' thigh. "Do whatever you'd like."
Harry's eyes brighten at the permission and he begins licking at the head like it's a really good lolly before taking it in, his eyes fluttering shut like it's the best thing in the world, and maybe it is. Louis hisses and throws his head back as Harry takes him in until his cock is promptly as far as he can take it. Harry gags around it before looking up pleadingly through his lashes for Louis to give him more.
Louis meets his eyes lovingly, "Want me to fuck your mouth now, baby?" Harry moans around Louis and he hisses as pleasure shoots through him. "Pull off if you need to, okay? I won't get mad, promise." Harry nods as best as he can before Louis gets a good grip on his hair and both of Harry's hands are on either of Louis' thighs. Louis pulls back slowly before sliding back in equally as slow, craving to feel the warmth of Harry's mouth around him as his eyes close in pleasure.
Sliding in a second time Louis looks down as he feels Harry gagging around him, bringing his other hand to Harry's face to wipe away a stray tear. "You okay, baby?" he asks as he continues thrusting, Harry nods. "Such a good boy for me, aren't you? Such a good boy, good for daddy, huh?" Harry's eyes flutter and a few more tears begin to form. "Open your pretty eyes, baby, want you to see how good you make me feel - make me feel real good, don't you?" Harry feels a knot forming in his own stomach, seeing the strain in Louis' eyes and hearing the pleasure in his voice and he can't help but moan because - yes, he is Louis' good boy and he'd do anything to keep him happy, truly.
"There we go, that's it darling," Louis compliments, stroking his free thumb across Harry's cheek. "Can daddy go faster, baby?" Harry nods and Louis' eyes flutter shut as his thrusts become snappy and quick against Harry's mouth.
"Fuck, Harry." Louis curses, pulling harder on Harry's hair as fucks harder against his mouth. Harry moans outrageously loud and Louis opens his eyes. "Like it when I pull your hair, sugar?" Louis' words are coming out in pants against his breath as he watches a pleasure-stricken Harry nod eagerly against his thrusts, his eyes wet and pleading.
Louis' thrusts are coming quicker now as he yanks at Harry's hair, panting things like "Cockslut for me, aren't you?" and "Such a good boy" that just push Harry further and further towards his own orgasm until he's not sure he can take it anymore and he becomes a crying, blabbering mess and ruins his trousers during one big moan that nearly sends Louis over the edge, too.
Louis pulls out, though, just before he can't take it anymore. He pulls Harry up by the shoulders and he's crying mess, apologizing with embarrassed eyes that refuse to meet Louis' as he pleads: truly, he's sorry for cumming and he hadn't meant to, he promises! And Harry just goes on and on until he's blabbering about any random thing that comes to mind, but Louis doesn't mind that he came as he wipes his tears and soothes Harry through a reassuring kiss, telling him that it's alright and he still loves him and blah.
"Think you can take more, baby?" Louis asks, pulling away from the kiss and messing with Harry's sex-hair, watching as Harry's eyes half light up and half shrink in fear at the idea because he really, really wants to but he's not sure he can.
Harry replies with a small, but sure "Yes" anyway, his voice cracking against the word.
Louis kisses at Harry's blotchy, tear stained face as he unbuttons his trousers and slides them down his legs along with his boxers before he walks him to the back wall of the grimy stall, "So pretty, Harry, so pretty for me, aren't you? So willing, so eager - cumming in your trousers like that, bet you just love being used, don't you?" Harry whimpers because he knows it's true, he does love it, but he loves Louis more and he really needs him right now, so bad.
"You gonna get my fingers wet for me so I can open you up? C'mon sweetheart, open up that pretty mouth for me, yeah?" Harry takes his fingers in willingly and swirls his tongue around them, moaning despite his sore throat as Louis lifts his leg onto the edge of the toilet to get a better angle.
Pulling his fingers from Harry's mouth, Louis doesn't waste any time shoving two of them in, becoming increasingly impatient with his hard cock just on the brink of letting go. Louis kisses Harry's face as he mewls a small whimper and his eyes fall shut, whispering a small "It's okay baby, it's okay, think you can come again for daddy, yeah?"
Harry bites his lip and nods, his eyes still shut tight as he feels his own cock hardening again.
Louis squeezes in a third finger before pushing them to the hilt - or the last knuckle - until he hits Harry's prostate which he becomes increasingly aware of only because Harry's eyes fly open and he lets out a breath as if he's just been hit in the gut, only this feels better beyond words.
"Think you can take me, baby? Think you're ready?" Harry nods and this time he's completely certain because man does he need Louis right now and he doesn't know how he'll last without cumming again or at least having Louis cum in him.
"Please, Louis." Harry shudders out and it's got to be the first thing he's said in a while and Louis can't help but moan at the state of his fucked out voice,. Neither of them can wait any longer as Louis slips himself into Harry's tight hole inch by inch, Harry's leg falling slack on the toilet seat as his body falls limp with the pleasure Louis' giving him.
Louis starts thrusting once he thinks Harry can take it and the bathroom is silent besides the smacking of skin and a string of "Lou, Lou, Lou" falling from Harry's mouth as if without thought, the rest of his body is open to Louis' bidding.
Louis thrusts particularly hard in a random fashion and Harry gasps, his eyes flying open and his body jolting forward as he wraps his arms around Louis' neck, crying into the skin and whispering an "Oh, daddy" through the tears.
Louis would wank to that mental image and audio for a while.
"Your cock hurt, baby? Think you can cum from only my cock this time? Gonna be a good boy for daddy and cum like a girl?"
Harry isn't thinking at all as pleasure takes over all of his senses, the only thing that coming to mind when Louis speaks, finally hitting his prostate, being a broken "Daddy!" and Louis might've came right then if it weren't for the door creaking open.
Quickly, Louis shoves Harry completely against the wall and covers his mouth with his free hand as his other grips at Harry's bum cheek to keep him from falling or moving. Harry stares at him with wide eyes, clearly lost as to why Louis quit snapping his hips up to meet his, rather letting Harry's arse sit on his dick, beginning to swivel his hips instead. Louis' eyes are serious, giving a warning that meant 'Stay quiet', but Harry's eyes have fluttered shut as he muffles a moan against Louis' hand, Louis pressing it harder against Harry's mouth.
The man on the other side of the stall proceeds with washing his hands, mumbling a small "Shit" after a faint 'clink' is heard in the sink - presumably from a fallen ring or something of the sort. Louis curses silently because now Harry's licking at his palm and his face is absolutely beautiful; looking up at him with blotchy skin and watery eyes, staring at Louis quite lovingly just before they fall shut and he lets go of everything he can get out for a second time, cumming in small spurts all over Louis' bare thighs and t-shirt.
Louis doesn't know how much longer he held it in while the man outside messed with the sink, but Harry mewls a couple of times and Louis can tell he's completely fucked out. It feels like decades before the man finally leaves and Louis can remove his hand from Harry's mouth and continue the snap of his hips, hard and fast, until Harry screams his name and cums nearly dry for the third time while Louis cums in him.
Finally summing up the will-power to remove himself from Harry - they'd both fallen limp against each other (more so Louis trying to hold Harry up and catch his breath so they wouldn't topple over) - Louis mumbles sweet nothings into the shell of his ear as he dresses both himself and Harry in hopes of getting out of this grimy sex-smelling loo soon. They still had quite a few more hours of the meeting to go. Harry's staring lovingly at Louis as he pats his face with cold water to get rid of the blotchiness and, eventually, Harry's trousers and his shirt as well . "I'm sorry, Harry." Louis says, and he means it, he truly feels bad. "I'm so sorry, baby, I should have calmed myself down I-"
Harry shushes him with a kiss to the mouth - he finally got control of his actions back, though tiredly - and mumbles "I love you, Lou." His droopy eyes never remove themselves from Louis'. Louis sighs and a hint of a smile shows on his face as he replies with an "I love you too, Harry" before he helps him up and drags him out and into the hall.
"Cried like a baby, you." Louis snorts as he folds his arms behind his head, Harry right next to him on the bed. Harry's quiet, contemplative.
"Louis, what are we doing?" Louis rolls his eyes at Harry's lack of awareness,
"We're living out memories, Harry, you oaf!" He keeps his eyes on the ceiling but manages to hit Harry on the chest with a soft thud before continuing, "Now, do you remember our fist kiss? Because I certainly do."
It's unfortunate to say that Harry and Louis haven't kissed yet. It's not that they haven't almost, because they indeed have almost - many more times than either of them is ready to admit.
Where to begin, well they met in the toilets just about two weeks ago and now they're the best of friends anyone can imagine, ones you'd expect to see after a lifetime of being together. Those friendships of course don't usually end up the way people expect - fallouts happening quite often right around the upper levels of schooling when classes and people are no longer so elementary - and you might say Louis and Harry exceeded everyone's expectations of a friendship finally over just after the small wonder of new beginnings was, but that's a story for a later date.
It's safe to say that both Harry and Louis feel a twinge of annoyance when they think about it - just a twinge. Perhaps it's good that they haven't created the beginnings of a more complicated relationship with the interlocking of their own two lips and tongue; nothing to worry about ruining their friendship. Being just friends was good, only it wasn't. And being best friends was like widening the gates of hell - (definition: seefriendzone) - that neither of them wanted to enter, yet they already had.
It might have been alright had they not nearly kissed many times already. If they weren't constantly almost kissing and almost admitting their petty feelings for each other they would have been fine with all the interruptions as they wouldn 't have been interruptions to anything at all of course because they in fact were not almost about to kiss - only indeed they were.
The first incident was not too long after they'd first met - actually, just the day after. Of course everyone knows the telltale story of poor baby One Direction as the crying little twinks were put into the band they are now - I won't bore you with the sob story. So they were ecstatic, of course, that they'd each been saved from total elimination from the show and kept for the next round. Harry and Louis, I wouldn't say most especially, but, most especially. I guess you could say it wasn't much of an interruption, really, as Louis struggled to carry the just-met 16 year old off stage, but Harry might not ever forgive Niall for it.
Truly, Harry was impressed with Louis' strength (as Harry was a bit heavy since he was going through his 'teenage years', especially when compared to Louis) and he felt his heart swell the second he wrapped his legs around the older boy's torso and let him carry him out. Honestly, Harry could say he fell in love with him right then and there and it wouldn't be much of a lie. They made it out before the rest of the lads - which is a surprise, really, given the situation - and there was so much room around them and so much space to be had yet they couldn't be closer to one another. And as Louis stopped, Harry could feel that he felt it too; the incoherent emotions flooding between the two. His heart was beating fast and swelling all at once and as much as the feeling nearly hurt Harry, he couldn't have wanted the moment any more.
Time stopped and it was only Louis and Harry, thoughts passing through the breaths shared between the two, the stuttering of their hearts in rhythm. Harry leaned in. Their breaths mingled as Harry paused, just inches above Louis' lips, waiting for a hint of objection in Louis' eyes. Their hearts were fluttering. He placed his hand on the underside of Louis' jaw and leant in again, rubbing his thumb against the smooth skin of Louis' cheek, green on blue the entire time.
His eyes flicked to Louis' lips.
"We're in a band!!!!" Niall exclaimed, running through the open space and around Louis and Harry a few times, clearly not paying much attention or perhaps simply oblivious to just how close the two were, lifting his shirt and flashing his bare white chest and stomach just for the hell of it. Harry doesn't know what Louis was going to say, he doesn't know if Louis was about to ask him to stop, he doesn't know if he was just saying his name in assurance that this was indeed about to happen, he just doesn't know, and Harry can't deal with not knowing, not at all.
Louis, seemingly snapped out of a daze, began bouncing about, carrying Harry sideways along his body and trying not to drop him as he hopped around gleefully. Louis carried on as if nothing had just happened - or was possibly about to happen - and Harry put on his winning smile. He was happy, really - hell he'd just been bumped up to the next rounds of the show and he's been physically closer to Louis than ever, that's got to make him happy. He is happy, oh believe him, he's happy, just a bit off put by the situation he was in no more than thirty seconds ago is all. Louis didn't seem at all fazed and, if that's Louis' acting, well that's just one more thing Harry admires about him. And if it isn't, and Louis truly isn't at all bothered by the near happening that's all but eating at Harry's core, well Harry isn't sure if he admires that Louis' emotions are so easily let go of or if he dreads it. Harry hopes for the forth and convinces himself that that's probably what it was, hopefully what it was, yet it still ate at Harry's insides.
The next 'almost happening', as Harry would put it, was not too long after the first. Finally settled into their new room and bunks a few days in, the room was already a mess. Everybody knew it. Honestly, what more can you expect from a room hoarded with five teenage boys? Not much. And that's how it was, not much. You couldn't see the floor and it might do you some good to watch where you step because there may be some dirty things there and, oh, if you see some clover-covered boxers - those are Niall's.
Domestic, of course, Harry contributed to the mess no doubt, but eventually he willed himself to clean it up one night when all the others in the house were going to some big-shot party Harry just wasn't particularly interested in. He wasn't being a stick in the mud - at least he wasn't trying to be - he just didn't particularly fancy a night of watching Louis flirt himself silly with every two-legged creature that captured his attention - dogs included, only they had four legs, which made them all the more a threat. Okay, so maybe Harry was a bit of a jealous person or maybe he just didn't like these very one-sided feeling emotions. But, really, what does a dog have that Harry doesn't and why does Louis seem to lack 100% full attention on Harry all the time?(???)
So Harry decided to stay. Cleaning up the mess didn't really feel like a burden or anything that bugged Harry in the least bit, in fact, if he was honest with himself, he'd say he quite liked performing the domestics. Cleaning, throwing a load in the wash, folding - the whole bit. So he hummed to himself happily, his mind finally off Louis, as he gathered all the clothes in a basket and swung his hips to the music in his head. Eventually humming and swaying turned to singing and dancing and Harry was having a full on dance party as he tossed the clothes into the basket acting like some kind of cocky pro baller. Honestly, who needed a party with beer and lights and music and girls and Louis? Certainly not Harry.
Harry was no where near done, but he was having the time of his life shouting his want for sedation and dancing around like a fool so it's no surprise that he didn't hear the jingling of keys or the creaking open of the room door as Louis entered the room. Harry's back is to him as he dances around idiotically with bundles of clothes in both hands. Louis balls up a pair of boxers off the floor and tosses them at him. Harry turns, startled, and feels a pull in his neck.
"Lou- ah!" He cringes, setting his neck straight again and fully turning his attention towards Louis as he rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks going red. "Hey, Louis."
"Harry." He greets casually.
Harry continues rubbing at the back of his neck and turns his gaze at the pile of clothes he dropped, actively avoiding Louis' eyes. "I, uh, thought you were at the party."
"Thought you were 'resting'." Okay so, yes, Harry's lame excuse for not attending the party was that he was knackered, completely exhausted. What was he supposed to say? That his best friend looks utterly fuckable in that stupid jean jacket of his and he really wouldn't be able to control himself with a few beers in his system, sorry, maybe next time? No.
Louis' arms are crossed expectantly and he raised his eyebrow expectantly when Harry finally meets his gaze. "Right, just thought I'd clean up a bit."
"I can see," Finally walking into the room, Louis saunters over to the basket and pretends to peer in, feigning interest. "You pick all this up right now?" Louis asks, meeting Harry's eyes. He gulps, nodding cautiously. Placing both hands on either end of the basket, Louis picks it up and tips it over, meeting Harry's shocked gaze with a smug smile.
"Hey!" Harry shouts, a smile creeping onto his lips.
"That's not very nice, Mr. Tomlinson."
"Oh, Mr. Tomlinson now am I?" Louis taunts.
Harry walks closer. "Dunno, Lou," He says, looking down at Louis' face as he backs into a wall, "Would you rather be Mr. Tomlinson or Mr.Totelinson?"
They're really close now and Louis' can feel Harry's breath on his lips as he hovers over. "Wha-" He starts, but it's too late. Harry's grabbed Zayn's tote with dirty socks off the dresser to the right and dumped it all over Louis' face. Shocked and a bit confused, Louis claws at the smelly socks still on his face and is met with Harry's cheeky smile all the way across the room.
"Styles," Louis says, looking down at his hands as he drops the socks, as he shaking his head slightly, "You are so going to get it."
Harry darts to the conjoining wall on his right as Louis crouches and tosses handfuls of dirty laundry and other items at Harry, the both of them hopping and jumping around like startled rabbits. After several minutes of frantic hopping about and happy giggling as they tried to avoid the mounds of clothes being thrown at them while lobbing equally same amounts back at each other, Harry's fallen over the laundry basket and Louis' hands are unrelenting; grabbing and throwing, grabbing and throwing as if it's a routine they're accustomed to. Harry's hands are shielding his tilted head and squinted eyes as he laughs and shouts and tries to remember to breathe despite Louis. Just Louis. For a moment all else is forgotten and Harry feels like he's five again and play fighting with his sister in his room like the innocent, happy children they were.
Louis stops for a moment and Harry thinks he's finished, chancing a glance and slowly removing his hands from his line of sight. Louis plops down on Harry's crotch and Harry feels like the air has been knocked out of him. "Ready to give up, Curly?" Louis yawns as Harry tries to steady his breathing, "Honestly, it isn't much of a fight when your opponent won't fight back."
Harry tries his best to seem utterly confused. "Fight? Thought we were wrestling." Harry huffs., pouting as he watches Louis' eyes cloud with confusion, examining the younger boy's face and wondering just what it was that went wrong up in that lopsided head of his during birth. Before he can say anything though, Harry's bit his lip through a smile as he grabs at Louis' hips and flips them over. Harry sighs, unable to contain the satisfied smirk on his face. "Honestly, Louis, it's not much of a fight if you wont even try." He doesn't give Louis much time to process before pressing a fistful of dirty laundry in his face. Removing himself from Louis completely, Harry returns to his previous duties, hardly paying Louis any attention as he mutters a playful, "Thought you had more dignity in you than to not even try fighting what was clearly a losing battle from the start.", simply because he knows Louis hates it when people only pay him half a mind and walk around as if they've never stepped on dirt.
Louis was seething. "Harry Styles," he demanded, sternly, "You look at me, right now." Louis is standing now, having stomped his foot not so lightly on the ground as he demands the other boy's attention like an angry father.
"Yeah," Harry taunts, reaching over for another dirty sock, his back still prominently facing Louis, "And why would I wanna do that?"
"Why because, Harry," Louis says, more or less through his gritted teeth. He pauses before continuing. "I'm gorgeous, obviously." And Louis sounds astoundingly calm and cocky - his usual attitude. Now Harry had to take a look see at that just to believe that Louis had collected himself as fast he seemingly had. It all happens rather suddenly, though some parts just faded to black. First, Harry, with a dirty laundry basket in his hand, turns his head - as if in slow motion - to look at a seemingly calm Louis across the room from him, only, he wasn't across the room from him anymore. Harry only has the privilege of a mere glance at the messy, perfect fringe of the devil of his fantasies before he feels himself hurled back with quite a lot of might. And that's it before it all goes black, the very next thing he opens his eyes to being a strikingly handsome looking Louis, straddling his hips on the bed that was closest to them at the moment of impact. Harry couldn't be bothered to, well, be bothered by the boy on top of his awkwardly angled, let alone figure out whose bed it is they're experiencing this predicament in. Harry hopes he won't get hard, but he can already feel it coming.
For a moment, Louis' eyes and face are still brandishing his previous emotions - angry yet not, annoyed yet somehow admiring, mischievous and playful - and then, as quick as a match is struck, Louis' demeanor changes. His eyes are no longer mischievous, but soft and looking, and his face is no longer set in an angrily annoyed fashion, but rather a soft, gentle one. At the rate his heart is beating in those few seconds of demeanor-changing silence, Harry's sure he'd have broken all heart monitors by now. And, when Louis' eyes flick down to Harry's lips before meeting his eyes once again, licking his own lips, Harry's heart stops all together. Their gaze is strong, locked promptly on each other's eyes - Harry's showing both uncertainty (on Louis' part) and wary desire whereas Louis' showed only a light contemplativeness, almost passively there where his main thoughts were resting with the beauty of this moment with Harry, the beauty of Harry himself. Louis begins to lean in.
Harry can feel the butterflies in his chest as his heart starts to swell with hope and lust, his eyes frantically flicking back and forth between both of Louis'. And when Louis' lips are just a breath away, Harry fee;s his eyes fluttering shut against the moment, laying there desperately waiting for Louis' lips to meet his own. Harry knows this is probably a moment he should keep his eyes open for, just to have some visual to remember it by, but then everything always seemed so much more passionately intimate in the dark. Harry's lost in the moment - and then the moment takes too long. The fluttering in his chest has changed to an anxious pulling at his heart and his stomach is churning so hard it's as if there are butterflies there too, desperately trying to get out. So desperately, in fact, it feels as if his stomach is almost vibrating. And after a second of confusion, Harry realizes his stomach is vibrating, only - wait, no it's not - it's something on his stomach. Harry opens his eyes and finds that Louis' just as startled and put off by the situation as he is - even more so when he removes himself from Harry hastily, as if realizing that what he was doing is utterlywrong. Harry's heart drops and he almost doesn't answer his phone, but soon realizes not answering it would simply make things more awkward and Harry's not entirely sure he's ready to hear whatever Louis' next words will be. He picks it up just before the last ring.
"Hello?" Harry sits up with his head in his hand, not wanting to look at Louis with the signs of his brokenhearted state etched all over his face.
"Harry?" It's Zayn.
"Hope so," Harry would normally say, but this time he only replies with a small "Yeah" before Zayn goes on.
"'s Louis there? With you, I mean. I've been waiting outside for a good ten minutes, said he only went in to get his wallet, not entirely sure it takes this long for a quick grab-and-go."
Harry clears his throat. "Louis? Oh, yeah, he - he'll be right there. Just found it, actually. Yeah, alright. See ya." Harry responds, Zayn asking that Harry tell Louis to hurry his slow arse up before ending the call. Louis' back is facing Harry when he looks up.
"I- uh, that was Zayn. Said he's waiting for you outside - doesn't wanna miss to much of the, uh, party, I guess." Harry's standing up now, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he expertly looks at every square inch of the room except the few that hold Louis.
"Right." Louis agrees, grabbing something - presumably his wallet - off the top of the dresser before heading out of the room. Harry only steps one foot out of the room door before he's watching Louis close the front one, pausing as his lips part as if to say something only before he gives a quick, curt nod and shuts the door completely.
After that, Harry and Louis are never quite the same again, like ever. The week or two that follow pass without much conversation between the two, only simple words that Harry tries not to clutch at. Louis may make a brief, funny comment at which Harry will, of course, laugh at and Louis' eyes will go squinty with delight, but it's never more than that, never more than a 3-5 minute, close ended conversation had between the two. Harry regrets that. He sometimes wishes things could go back to how they were before or, even better than that, he wishes things could change so their relationship would fall out differently. Harry desperately wishes he could go back in time and erase these stupid, romantic feelings he has for Louis and change them into something more like a strong, brotherly bond rather than these unrequited strands of hope.
So it's two weeks later and One Direction have officially made it far past what they ever thought they would and they've all got time to themselves to spend with each other in Harry's family's bungalow. Harry's psyched, he thinks, but then maybe he's not.
It doesn't end up as terribly as Harry first fears it will. Soon everyone's settled into beds and rooms before they head out back in the dark of night, not quite realizing that time had slipped under their noses and went out the front door for a good rest while they settled in. They all get comfy and cozy under jumpers and blankets around a small fire in the pit as they sit around embracing one another as the best friends they've all become, the brotherhood they all share with each other. Harry's no longer cold as he downs his third beer in fifteen minutes - so he's a bit drunk. Mind you Harry's trying desperately not think about or feel his aching heart as the boy who yanks at the strings of it so easily is sitting just across the pit from him. Harry's having a great time, actually, or at least he would say now that he's on his fourth beer. But really, he loves these boys - though some to a different degree than others - and he's honestly having the best time he's had in a while. He thinks they could all go on being friends even if this whole boy band thing doesn't work out, he's sure of it. So what's a few beers? Fun is what.
They're all laughing and singing, talking about hopes for their futures, jokingly dreaming out loud what they're privately hoping for on the inside. Harry's surprised he hasn't said anything suggestive about the state of his emotions as he's all laughs and smiles, because, really, how can he not? Harry hasn't got time to worry about petty unrequited feelings. Who does? He could make time for it if he really wanted to, sure, but why would he? Harry can't remember what he's thinking about as he listens to Louis sing. Would it be a shame for Harry to say that he really wants to dance with Louis right now? Maybe kiss him? Before Harry knows what he's doing he's already stumbled his way into the family room, gripping the wall for balance as he makes his way to the bedroom. When Harry arrives he's only looking for one thing - his iPod. Harry's thrown himself onto the ground with a thump and a dull ache in his knees before he begins rummaging through his rucksack, throwing nonsense items this way and that.
Louis' at the doorway now and it isn't the first time he's stumbled upon an oblivious Harry. Just as Louis' about to say something Harry jumps up and turns around before stumbling his way towards the door, his eyes glued on the device in his hand as he scrolls for the perfect song. When he bumps into Louis his thumb taps the screen as he stumbles back trying not to drop both himself and the iPod. When Harry looks up and sees a slightly shocked, slightly amused Louis standing in front of him he almost doubles over in giddiness.
"Louis!" He shouts, throwing himself onto Louis in a bear hug and dropping the iPod as Louis stumbles back trying to right himself.
Louis chuckles to himself. "Hey, Haz." Harry's heart flutters overly much at the nickname Louis gave him sometime two weeks ago - he'd only used it once. "Everyone out there thought you came in to upchuck. Thought I should check on you, just in case." Harry lets go of Louis, pulling away slowly with a sheepish grin on his face. Louis cocks an eyebrow, still holding onto the younger boy's hands to ensure he doesn't stumble over. "What are you up to, Harry?"
"It's Haz." Harry corrects, his expression furrowed.
Louis rolls his eyes, scoffing. "Fine then, what are you up to, Haz?" Harry smiles at the use of his nickname and this time it's not hidden.
"This is my favorite song, Lou." Harry bites his lip, pulling Louis a few more steps into the room as he backs up. Louis gives Harry a curious look before the words process in his brain and he strains to hear the shallow sound of music coming from the fallen iPod. Louis instantly recognizes the song and smiles wonderingly at Harry.
"Dynamite, Harry?" Harry grins.
"Of course, Louis."
"I'm guessing you won't be needing these, then?" Louis chuckles, lifting his palm up to show Harry the bunched up bags in his hands.
Harry snatches the bags from his hand and tosses them over his shoulder before returning his grip lightly to Louis' hands. "Never. Now dance with me, Louis."
Louis cocks an eyebrow and Harry wiggles his back. "I don't know, Harry."
"Hey Louis, are you wearing all your favorite brands?" Harry slurs giddily. He continues before Louis can reply. "Because I'm going to need some space for both my hands, yeno? Big palms." Harry says, raising his hand in front of Louis to show him as his other slides to Louis' waist. Louis hits his hand against Harry's and he's truly stunned for a moment as his palm connects with his face. It's not before he's a laughing mess, swinging Louis along with him all over the room as he registers what's just happened. They're both laughing and it's as if the distant, shallow music from the fallen iPod is now coming from all sides of the room and it's in their ears, sinking into the veins of their bodies and in the hot blood streaming through them both. It's only Louis and Harry and the rest of the world has disappeared, just Harry and Louis. While Louis only had a few beers to drink they've both remarkably let loose all control they had on their bodies as they jump around and admire the smiles on one another's faces.
It's only near the end of the next song, Replay, that Harry realizes the song has changed, but it doesn't faze Harry one bit. Looking down at Louis whose eyes are closed as he takes in the music, Harry grabs at his hips before singing along with the music just as Louis' eyes open, staring intently into the blue of them. "I could be your melody, a girl that could write you a symphony, the one that can fill your fantasies, so come baby girl let's sing with me."
The world is spinning around them and all Harry can see is Louis as he waits for him to sing the words back to him, but Harry doesn't lose hope when he doesn't, instead continues on with the song as Iyaz sings "Nanana" in a repeated chorus, jumping around and still grinning largely as Louis stares at him looking shell-shocked. Harry stops and frowns worryingly.
"Why aren't you singing along? Or dancing anymore?" Harry's hands are still placed on Louis' hips, only now they're fitting to let go, but Harry grips tightly onto Louis' shirt to keep them from doing that. Harry's heart sinks and he's utterly confused. He let's go of Louis, his hands dropping at his sides, his shoulders hanging. Harry steps back and Louis reaches out.
"Harry-" But it's too late, Harry's already stepped on his bag and is falling over. Louis reaches him when his head hits the side of the bed frame and Harry sits up, laughing as he holds his injury.
Louis drags him up, muttering something that sounds like it's laced with too much worry and seriousness for Harry's drunken, confused brain to care about. Louis lays him down on his bed, a pillow propped beneath his head before he rushes out of the room. Harry is only confused as he watches with blurred vision, calling out Louis' name with a slurred tongue until he comes back. Louis rushes back in with and ice pack that he props on Harry's head, telling him to hold it there as he sets off to move all of the boys scattered bags to a corner of the room. Harry shouts his name.
"Yes, Harry?" Louis asks, crouching to eyelevel as his pushes back Harry's fringe and placing the discarded bag of ice back on Harry's bump.
"Lay down with me."
"Please?" There's a glint of true desperation in his eyes that guilts Louis into climbing into the space behind Harry.
"Only if you keep that bag on your head." Harry nods and grips the pack on his head, waiting for Louis to climb in with him. When he does, Harry cuddles himself back into the spoon of Louis' body, resting in the comfortable silence between them with a faint smile still on his face. Only Harry doesn't realize how uncomfortable the silence actually is.
After a little while Louis speaks up. "Does it feel any better, Haz?" Harry nods and Louis holds onto the bag, sliding it away from Harry's bump to assess what's left of the damage. Harry's fingers stretch to touch Louis'. Louis sets the bag back. "You can let the bag go now, if you want." Louis allows, and as soon as the words leave his lips Harry's dropped the bag and turned into Louis' side, the bag making a wet thump as it hits the ground by Harry's aggressive movements.
"Hi Louis." Harry whispers into his neck, his eyes flutter up Louis' but seeing only the underside of his jaw.
"Hey Harry." Louis says softly, the tension in his body still very much present, but loosening lightly as he pets at Harry's hair softly.
"Hey, Louis?" Harry breathes the words softly on the skin his neck.
"Yeah?" Louis shudders out in a voice-cracking whisper.
"I really like you, Louis." Louis' body tenses. Harry doesn't notice, nor does he realize the magnitude of what he's just said - he didn't even mean to say it. The words slipped out like water and Harry couldn't be thirstier. He carries on as if pronouncing the sky as blue or the sun is out or perhaps that the Earth is round, kinda like Louis' butt. And now his fingers are tracing random patterns along the fabric of Louis t-shirt in a dazed, school-girly way and he just can't help himself. "You like me too, don't you Louis?" Louis doesn't answer for a while.
"It's okay if you're not ready to say it. I just like being mouthy I guess. Thought you should know, that maybe you'd like to know." Harry's fingers begin tracing lines up to the collar of Louis shirt and playing with the loose wrinkles of it. "I thought you might not be ready to say anything yet, and that's okay. I like you the same either way, really." Harry looks up at Louis' face and sees confusion and perhaps something that's being held back. Harry frowns.
"Oh, come on Louis, don't be so down. I'm right here you silly goose!" Harry giggles drunkenly at himself before staring on, seeing no change of emotion as Louis' eyes flick to his. He heaves an exasperated sigh before clambering over on top of Louis and leaning down to plant wet kisses along his neck.
"Stop. Being. A. Big. Poop. Head. You. Lame-o." Harry chants between kisses, sounding like an actual five year old. Louis' hands reach up to Harry's shoulders.
"Harry- Harry, you need to stop." Louis says sternly but softly enough as he pushes at Harry's shoulders. Harry doesn't let up, though, and grips onto Louis' shoulders to keep himself from being moved, giggling between kisses as he tells Louis in a playful voice that he "Better stop before [he] does something that [Louis] will really regret, trust [him]'. And now Harry's kisses aren't only being placed on Louis' neck but along his jaw and cheeks as well, just next to his eyes and on his forehead and it's like Harry can't get enough. Louis' pushing has become rougher and more recognizable as Harry pesters on with the sweet kisses.
"Harry, STOP." Louis finally pushes Harry off of his waist, sitting up and wiping his face off. Harry can feel his heart piecing at the rejection.
"No, Harry. Okay? Just- just quit it, alright? You're drunk." And Harry can't think of a more beautiful lie he wishes he could believe - there's nothing like the blistering kiss of rejection to sober one up. The one that plants itself not on the cheek, not on the nose, not even physically anywhere on the body - not quite up for that kind of consensual commitment - but is rather like a punch of reality to the heart, the pulling and snapping of hopeful heart strings cut by the sharp blade of reality, leaving no trace of its presence except the pain of its aftermath. Harry wishes he was drunk, wishes he could believe that he'd fall asleep and never remember this night, but he knows that's no longer possible. Tears begin damming at the lids of his eyes and he feels nauseous as he stares into Louis' sorrowful ones.
Eyes widening and tears falling, Harry turns around quickly, jumping off the bed and grabbing the bunched up puke bags just in time for him to catch every drop of it. He's crouched on the floor, vomiting in a bag in front of the boy he's fallen so hard for that rejected him no less than a minute ago. Harry's not sure how the night can get much worse until he feels Louis rubbing his back beside him, bunching up the bag and helping Harry up to the bed before removing his soiled shirt and joggers leaving him weak and slumped on the edge of the bed, tired and embracing the hurt of his heart. Harry no longer has any shame as Louis lays him down and tucks him in like a child, removing his socks and tossing them on the ground beside his bed. Louis opens up a few bags for Harry, looking at the vacancy and hurt in his eyes as he caresses his cheek softly. Harry wipes his mouth and eyes with the back of his hand - luckily there really wasn't much to wipe off of his lips - and turns away from Louis, sniffling softly as tears well up in his eyes. Louis sighs resignedly before climbing into the bed behind him, cuddling his body softly and running his hand up and down his arm for support, though he says nothing. He's not sure there's anything he can say. Louis reaches behind him and places a bag in front of Harry, hoping he won't have to use it, but leaving it there just in case. Harry sniffles.
"Remember how I told you I'd never need these?" Harry said, talking of the bags. Louis' hand stills as he listens intently. Harry lets out a pathetic, one breath laugh. "I lied to you. Guess that means I don't like you as much as I thought I did - but that's good, isn't it? You're happy?" Louis feels a pull at his heart and tries to correct Harry, make him feel better about the situation at present, but Harry blocks him out and Louis' voice becomes white noise to his broken heart as his eyes flutter shut, hearing the music playing distantly in the background.
Harry doesn't remember falling asleep, but he remembers hearing the song as it played out brokenly - or maybe he simply heard it brokenly - thinking it only fitting that the song to have come on shuffle after his embarrassing sob fest was Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz. Harry silently weeps to the god that seems to be mocking him and his mind is blank after that, not a thought to be had and it's almost as if the world has gone empty of color and sound and happiness. Harry doesn't remember falling asleep, but he knows he did so with the last of his tears and Louis affiliated hopes welling up in his eyes, never quite spilling over.
Harry wakes up cold and alone the next day with a more than uncomfortable headache pounding at his temples. Still, Harry gets up and pulls on sweats and a jumper before he makes his way out of the room after noticing that his vomit bags have been picked up and taken out. Harry walks into the family room fully expecting to see the boys hanging out or goofing about, but instead finds a softly humming telly on with no one to watch it. Frowning, Harry makes his way into the kitchen only to find a note stuck to the fridge scrawled messily - and unmistakably - in Liam's hand writing.
We've gone out to buy some eggs
and stuff and didn't want to wake
yous so we'll be back but I wouldn't
count on anytime soon, Niall brought
a ten-man family's worth of money.
There's enough soup in the micro
for two. Get some rest!! See you later
Harry crumples the note and tosses it before finding said soup in the microwave. Harry can't tell what kind of soup it is, but he's kind of hungry right now and could definitely go for two person's worth of soup, so he does just that. The soup is still hot as Harry settles himself onto the couch to watch whatever good thing pops up on the channel guide and he thanks the lord he doesn't spill it on himself when Louis walks in. Forget embarrassment, that soup was hot. Harry finds that swallowing soup just after you've choked on it and nearly spit it out is quite the challenge, but he gets through it anyway before clearing his throat and speaking painfully at the boy staring curiously at him with his cute tired morning face and his squinty tired eyes.
"Thought you were out grocery shopping." Harry's heart is racing and, truth be told, Harry kind of prayed to whichever god is up there that he'd never have to see this boy again, but, revelation, of course he wanted to see this boy again, everyday of his life if he could.
"Is that where the boys went, then? I was wondering why it was so quiet." Louis rasps out in his heavenly morning voice and, honestly, Harry woke up with this morning wood, it's not the cause of Louis. "'Cause you know, Niall and stuff." Louis adds after Harry stares at him quietly. Harry blushes and silently curses himself for zoning out into Louis' beautiful voice before cracking an awkward smile and mumbling a small "Yeah."
Louis turns his gaze and rubs his neck as he does in most uncomfortable situations. "I'm just gonna go make some breakfast then." He hustles out of the room and into the kitchen before Harry can say anything and soon enough the curly haired boy's stumbling over tangled blankets trying to make his way to Louis as if this was the most important information of either of their lives. Harry finally makes it, his headache pounding worse than ever and looking like a complete mess, but he makes it.
"Louis, I uh, I didn't know you were here so I just heated the whole thing, but Liam said that this soup was enough for two people and, um, well." Harry clears his throat and averts his gaze a few times as Louis stares at him interestingly. When Harry doesn't say anything Louis speaks up.
"Should I get a spoon?" Harry nods very enthusiastically before cursing his headache again when Louis turns his attention to the silverware drawer.
Soon enough they're both settled into the couch watching some weird sitcom and sharing the bowl of soup. Harry's still on guard and vulnerable, but he's not as tense as he thought he would be as he laughs at Louis' stupid jokes. Everything is going good and while Harry may still have feelings for Louis he's willing to push them out of his mind just to keep him as a friend, he thinks it may just work.
They rest in the comfortable silence that has sunken between them, watching the rather melodramatic show that's on the telly as they recoup from the laugh fest they've just endured - Harry laughing at Louis' lame jokes and Louis at the pleasure he feels seeing Harry happy because of him instead of sad. A condom ad comes on just as they both regain their breath and Harry tenses. It's quite embarrassing, he thinks, noticing Louis' nonchalance as he changes the channel.
Harry feels awkward in the silence that follows and privately thanks heaven when Louis finally speaks up. "Hey, Harry?" Louis is very casual about it, keeping his eyes on the telly even when Harry's attention snaps to him. Harry's alert posture shrinks a little, seemingly shameful of his attentiveness where Louis' nonchalance is obviously what this situation calls for. Harry clears his throat before sinking back into the cushions of the couch and resting his eyes on the screen.
"Who do you wank to?" Harry chokes, literally chokes, as he tries to calm himself at the question. When Louis turns his curious gaze from the screen to Harry he's met with Harry's incredulously confused expression.
Louis sighs exasperatedly and rolls his eyes, waving the remote around as he explains to Harry. "You know, like, who do you think of when you wank? It's a simple question really."
Harry gulps. "Uh, I don't usually-"
"Harry, do you think of me when you wank?" If the cat hadn't caught Harry's tongue he'd tell the truth because in all honesty he really doesn't think of Louis when he wanks. Or, I mean, at least he doesn't try to.
"Harry?" Louis asks and it's as if it's some kind of question on its own.
"Mhm?" Harry hums, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed as he prays that he's having a nightmare or maybe just a really hot wet dream he'll wake up ashamed about really soon.
That's not what happens.
"You and me," Louis says, making his way to Harry on the other end of the couch. He continues once he's placed himself firmly onto a stunned Harry's lap. Harry keeps his hands to himself. "We've nearly kissed, Harry. Going on - what? Two, three times?" Louis ignores the tenseness in Harry as he straddles him and plays with the collar of his jumper, keeping his eyes off Harry's for casualness, though he can feel Harry's intently on him.
"Th-three." Harry says, tense still.
Louis looks up at the sound of Harry's voice and his eyes turn soft. "Do you remember last night, Harry?" Louis ignores it when he feels Harry cringe under him. "We almost kissed, you know."
"That's not how I remember it." Harry says a little vulnerably, if not begrudgingly, as he averts his gaze.
Louis rubs softly at Harry's jaw before speaking, disregarding his last comment."Kiss me, Harry." He says. Harry's gaze snaps back onto Louis'. He's no longer trying to be seductive. "Kiss me now, Harry. If you really want to, kiss me." Louis pleads softly as his fingers still on Harry, his eyes staring softly into Harry's lovely, wide green ones.
"I won't stop you this time." Louis cuts him off, staring into the hopeful, guarded green depth of Harry's eyes. "Promise." He whispers. Harry sighs with enough hope in his eyes to make Louis believe that he's going to do it, so he speaks up in a low whisper. "Now kiss me you fool."
If Harry's learned anything from past 'incidents' it's that the space before a first or almost kiss is much too long. Thoughts float, revelations occur, and all hell breaks loose when rejection decides to step in. Harry, the expert at these things, would recommend giving it some time, though. Enough time before to give the other person a chance to really realize whether they do or do not want this, but not long enough for them to think that you don't, and certainly not enough time to rethink feelings they were so sure of before. Harry would only recommend this because nothing is worse than having your hope catered to only to have it torn down by aftershocks and revelations of the same caterer.
So Harry waits. He stares into Louis' eyes looking for any sign of second thoughts or any insincerity within the pretty blue. When he doesn't find any of that, but rather finds gentleness, sincerity, and fragile, vulnerable hope in his eyes, Harry decides to dive in. Not too fast, but quick enough to get the job done while still holding the suspense factor of the lead up to a proper kiss. Harry looks up when he's only one lip's space from planting his on Louis' and is met with Louis' curious eyes, waiting for Harry's next move. Harry can feel his heart pulling. Does he really want this? What if he's dreaming? What if it's all a part of some cruel joke Louis' playing on him? How could Louis suddenly decide he wants this after so many rejections?
Harry's always been the master at not thinking. He squeezes his eyes tight and goes in, his lips planted firmly on Louis' with a needy, nervous force that has the butterflies exploding from his heart. It's only the touch of lips and the catch of shaky breaths but it's everything Harry dreamed of and more. He leans into the kiss enough that he's pulled himself from his resting spot deep in the couch cushions and Louis' leaning back, gripping onto Harry's jumper. Harry's hands go to Louis' hips and they're both sitting up properly now, Harry's head leaning back as he reaches for Louis' lips that are ducked just enough to reach his. Harry's gripping onto Louis as if he's not ready to let go of this dream of reality, not quite trusting it's actually happening, but willing to hold onto it forever just to believe it is. Louis' hands are everywhere and no where all at once. His grip loosens and he's feeling at the expanse of Harry's chest and stomach feverishly before he trails them up to his hair, playing with his curls before gripping them, properly disheveling his hair as if he can't ever get enough of this, of Harry.
Louis' the one to pull away first - after much effort - breathless and flushed, staring into Harry's eyes with a new found lust.
"Been waiting to do that." Harry says, biting his lip through a grin. Louis doesn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he says it.
"I can tell." Louis laughs. Harry's still holding onto his hips and looking up into his eyes with a pleading lust Louis just can't ignore.
"I wanna kiss you, Lou."
"You just did, you oaf." Louis jokes, but he knows what Harry's actually saying.
"I mean again, Louis." Louis' heart flutters at the openness of Harry. He smiles sheepishly before correcting it into a superior quirk with the cock of an eyebrow.
"If you must, Styles. Whatever you do just don't make it fast." Harry plays along with Louis' cocky tone of voice, grinning widely before responding with the best compliant business face he can come up with.
"Why of course, Mr. Tomlinson. Whatever you say." Harry finishes the sentence off with the biggest, happiest grin Louis' ever seen and he has less than a millisecond to gather himself for Harry's impending follow-up kiss. Harry's kissing Louis through a smile and this time it's not just lips and breath but it's all teeth, tongue, and happiness as the two grasp each other like the fate of the world depends on it. Who's to say the fate of theirs doesn't? Louis' hands are moving all over Harry again and this time Harry can't keep his hands from moving up the stretch of Louis' back and under his shirt before he turns them both over and lays him on the couch, careful to keep their lips in rhythm. He pulls away once he has Louis laying properly.
"Wanted to be closer to you." Harry pants through swollen lips. Louis nods hastily before grabbing at the back of Harry's neck and pulling him back in for another kiss, moaning into it when their lips meet again, his grip loosening in Harry's hair. Harry's only begun licking into Louis' mouth when Louis pulls away again. They're both panting heavily through swollen lips and flushed faces, Louis looking at Harry's mess fringe as he tries to fix it. Louis meets his eyes before speaking.
"How far do you want to go, Harry?"
It only takes Harry a second to decide, his gaze flickering between Louis' eyes. "Heaven and back, Lou."
Louis feels his heart flutter in his chest at Harry's words. "Then take us there, Haz." Harry leans back in and licks into his mouth once more, grabbing at Louis' shirt and feeling the heat of his skin underneath his clothes as Louis' hands feel under Harry's shirt. They rustle around a bit more before Louis gets to removing Harry's shirt, Harry pecking Louis lips after they part before speaking again.
"I've never done this, Lou. Never - only with a girl before, I don't know what to do." Harry's eyes are concerned as they stares into Louis' loving ones.
Louis pulls him down and pecks his lips before responding, keeping both hands on the sides of his face. "It's just like a girl." Louis says reassuringly.
"Just like a girl?"
"Just like a girl, babe." Harry smiles wonderingly at Louis before kissing him again, though this time more softly and passionately than the times before.
"Harry," Louis pants between kisses, "Harry, do you have, um-" Harry pecks his lips again before pulling away completely.
"Hang on." Harry turns away and reaches the other end of the couch, sticking his hand between the couch cushions. When he turns back, Louis' sitting up on his elbows looking at Harry curiously with a small smile on his face. Harry looks at the pack in his hand with a sheepish smile, blushing lightly. "If there's anything my father taught me, though perhaps more as a precaution than with consent, it's that I should always be prepared. It never happened, but I always kept things hidden here just in case - I guess now's the time, huh?"
Louis bites his lip and nods. Harry looks up and smiles before kissing him again. "Now let's get this shirt off you, yeah?" Soon enough Louis' only down to his boxers and Harry's sweats are hanging loose on his hips as Louis toes at them during their kiss. Harry pulls away onto his knees and unfolds the waistband trying to get them off until Louis stops him.
"Harry, wait. I wanna do something." Harry looks up suddenly, his hands stilling at his waistband. Louis sits up and reaches for them, lowering his hands from his waist and placing his own on Harry's chest, pushing him down slowly until he's laying down. He pecks Harry's lips before kissing down the length of his neck.
"Louis?" Harry tries to say evenly through a gasp.
"Yeah?" Louis' in the middle of kissing Harry under the cut of his jaw when he feels Harry gasping desperately as he thrusts his hips up to Louis', straddling over him. Louis laughs against Harry's neck. "Alright, hang on you horn." He plants a few more kisses down the column of Harry's neck before trailing them down his chest.
He kisses at Harry's hipbones before pulling his sweats down. "Has anyone ever done this for you, Harry?"
"Only once." His hands are running through Louis' hair desperately as he kisses down his thighs. When Louis makes his way back up and kisses beside the outline of his boner Harry gasps. "It wasn't that good." He moans.
Louis laughs in response. "You're lying. It was great, wasn't it?" He kisses at the fabric on the head of his boner teasingly, looking up at Harry through his lashes, eliciting a gasp from him. "Tell me it was great, Harry."
Harry's grip on Louis' hair tightens at his words. "It was great, Louis. Mngh, it was really, really great, Louis." His eyes are squeezed shut as Louis licks at the head of his dick, innocent eyes on his. "Louis, please." He whispers brokenly, his grip tight in Louis' hair.
Louis finally decides to end Harry's torture and kisses at his right hipbone as he pulls his pants down. He lowers his lips and kisses dryly at the head before taking it between his lips, basking in the sounds of pleasure Harry releases. "Look at me, Harry." He says, pulling off Harry just long enough to have him open his eyes. Louis nearly moans when his eyes meet Harry's desperate ones, and he actually does when he takes the head back in his mouth and tastes the precum leaking from it. He takes all of Harry in and rubs him a few times before pulling away with a pop.
"Now, I don't mean to cut this short," He says, sitting up and cutting off Harry's whine of protest. Louis reaches for the condom packet Harry dropped earlier and begins to unwrap the foil. "Trust me, I could continue doing that for days - not that I've tried - but I'm really desperate here, Harry. And I think, correct me if I'm wrong," Louis tosses the foil off to the side before he turns back to Harry and begins rolling it on him, trying desperately to keep himself from hopping on Harry and riding him until his legs are sore. "I think you're as desperate as I am to just let this happen already. What d'ya think, Curly?"
Harry swallows and nods ferociously, sitting up on his elbows to watch Louis. "Good then! It's settled. Just let me get you wet enough and-"
"Louis, no." Harry says, stopping his hand and sitting up. "You've already done enough, now it's my turn." Louis lays down slowly and Harry climbs over him, kissing softly at the cut of his jaw before taking Louis' hand and looking up at him. "You're gonna have to help me, I don't know what makes you feel good."
Louis nods before gulping, trying to find his voice. "Right, um, just make sure you're all slicked up and wet. Wouldn't imagine you keep lube around here too."
"Actually-" Louis slaps his bicep. "Heeeeey." Louis cocks his eyebrow daringly managing to get Harry to hold his hands up in mock surrender. "Kidding. Though if I'm being honest I'd much rather be kissing."
Louis rolls his eyes and scoffs, pulling Harry down for a sloppy, fun loving kind of kiss. Louis thinks he'll nickname it the Harry kiss. "The first thing you can do is get me out of these damn briefs already." Louis pants, red-cheeked and flushed. Harry giggles and pecks Louis' lips before kissing between his collar bones and down his sternum, following his sparse happy trail until he reaches the waistband of his pants. He kisses at the edge once more before tucking a finger underneath, pulling the band back and letting it snap into place.
"Harry." Louis says, annoyed.
Harry laughs lightly before reaching up and kissing him on the lips. "Just wanted to see what you would do." He teases, grabbing at the waistband of Louis' briefs and shoving it down. He stares for a while. "Nice dick."
Louis snorts as he watches Harry, his stare still firmly and unwaveringly on his manhood. "Not so bad yourself." Harry still hasn't looked away and Louis' beginning to wonder if he's heard him at all, dropping his head onto the couch cushions and allowing Harry to bask in his glory for as long as he needs to. He doesn't expect it when he feels Harry's warm, wet palm gripping him before he starts tugging. Louis gasps and looks up, met with Harry's innocently curious eyes. His head drops in pleasure. "Fuck."
Louis doesn't like being made vulnerable and at the complete will of someone in any situation; in the bed - or on the couch - is not an exception. He bites his lip and allows his eyes to flutter shut before bringing his arm up to cover them, squeezing them tight and panting curse words as his hips thrust up involuntarily. Louis would say anything to defend his utter state of submission here, but he's not lying when he says Harry works a good hand. Or later when he admits in an interview that he's actually really good with them, truly.
Louis' startled when the pleasure stops.
Harry speaks up once Louis' incredulous gaze falls upon him. "I was calling your name and you weren't answering. I figured, well-" He looks away as if he's done something shameful. Harry meets his eyes again after a small pause. "Anyway, I was just...I want to finger you, Lou."
Harry's never been shameful when it comes to the things he wants and one would only think that that shamelessness would transfer easily when it came to the bed, especially with someone as blunt as Harry. Louis thinks of this after the initial shock he feels, but it's still there even after he reasons with the obviousness of it.
"You, uh- what?"
Harry doesn't falter in his response as he tells Louis the truth and it's then that Louis learns to hate his honesty just a little bit because wow he was not expecting that. "I imagine taking a dick up the arse dry is probably not a fun experience and you told me that being with a guy is just like being with a girl. Now, I know the anatomy's different and I've never given it to the back hole, but I assume the principles are nearly the same. And, I'm being cocky here, I do not shove my lust onto anyone without properly preparing them first. It is something I live by and I do get many compliments- hey!" Harry's grinning foolishly as he rubs at his arm, mocking pain from Louis' punch.
"You know, for a moment there I thought you were going to be all sentimental 'I'd do anything to make you feel good' with me." Louis scoffs.
"I'd do anything to make you feel good, with m- er, Louis." Harry smiles down at Louis, tossing his fringe from his eyes in an overly lovey-dovey manner.
"Shut up, Harry."
Harry feigns true hurt before leaning into a slow, soft kiss on Louis' lips, rubbing his thumb softly across his cheek and staring down into his eyes only a few centimeters from his own. "May I finger you, Louis?" He whispers, just barely, but enough for Louis to feel his breath on his lips.
"You may, Harry." The corner of Harry's lip quirks at Louis' grant and he kisses him softly again. It's a ginger kiss, just the movement of lips on lips and shallow breaths mingling without the extremities of tongue and teeth. When Harry pulls away he's brought a few fingers between their faces.
"Suck." He says softly, and it's not commanding. Louis takes the fingers in gratefully and swirls his tongue all around them, his eyes staring innocently into Harry's the entire time.
Harry pulls his fingers out with a small 'pop' and kisses Louis hard, but without loss of passion. Louis mewls when he feels Harry's finger prodding his hole and his hands tighten on Harry's shoulders when he puts his finger in entirely, eyes shut and whining as he thrashes underneath him. Harry wastes no time in reattaching their lips as he begins pumping his finger in and out of Louis a few times before adding another and curving them to find his spot. Boys had to have one, right? He knew he found it when Louis' body lifted and he thrust himself onto Harry's fingers. And if that wasn't enough to convince him, the sounds Louis was making were enough to convince him a hundred times over.
"Harry," He gasps, his grip tighter as it slides to Harry's biceps. "Harry, I'm ready."
Harry's lips are overly red and swollen when he pulls away from Louis' neck, but his fingers never falter. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, fuck, just get in me already." Harry nods, panting slightly and kisses Louis' neck once more then pecking his lips before he pulls away and lines himself up with Louis. It's a wonder to them both how Harry's lasted so long both hard and in a condom, but in the heat of the moment Harry didn't mind it much as long as Louis was feeling good. He spits in his hand and rubs himself over in place of not having lube and lines himself up until his head is prodding at Louis' hole. "Harry." He whines, and that's enough to make Harry push into him.
"Fuck." Harry's head falls into a hover above Louis' as he pushes in, his curls just barely touching Louis' forehead, hanging like a curtain around both of their faces. He begins thrusting slowly to the sound Louis' pants, but as Louis digs the blunt tips of his fingers into Harry's shoulder blades he can't help but go faster. The soft panting that Louis was dong earlier soon turns to grunts and moans of pleasure and Harry's trying to keep his composure as he stares down at Louis' pleasure-stricken face.
Louis' panting a string of "Harry" 's and Harry's still staring down at Louis as he picks up the pace. He's panting and a line of sweat begins to form at his hair line, he's not sure how much longer he's going to last.
"I'm not gonna last much longer, Haz." Harry swallows and nods lightly, Louis' eyes now open and full of lustful concern. Harry plants his hands next to Louis's head and holds his upper body at a slant, his stomach rubbing on the head of Louis' cock with each thrust. Soon enough Louis' writhing beneath him and Harry's pretty sure there'll be a few bruises from where Louis' gripping his bicep in the next day or two, but the way Louis looks under him is enough to make that alright, to make him want them. He slows his thrusts, pulling out slowly and slamming back in in hopes of hitting that special spot that made Louis a moaning mess under him earlier. Louis' cries out and this time Harry knows he hit it and it's not long before Louis' coming on them both, whining hotly into Harry's neck. That's enough to take Harry over the edge, thrusting a few more times just to milk their orgasms for a bit longer.
Harry tries to catch himself before he collapses onto Louis, falling into the crack of the couch instead and pulling Louis half over his body so he doesn't fall. He manages to pull the condom off with one hand and ties it up holding it carefully in the hand that isn't being smashed by Louis' body. He feels satisfied, sure, but he also feels scared. He knows how these things go. Sometimes bringing someone to bed means the end of everything you had before. What if Louis realizes that this was all just a dazed, horny mistake? What if he goes back to feeling how he did before and, now, even worse? Of course Harry reminds himself that they're not in a bed but rather a couch, but the principle still carries. He also reminds himself that Louis was the one who initiated today's transpiring. What if that's all Louis wanted?
Harry sucks in a breath before replying. "Yeah, Lou?"
"I'm bloody cold. Also, you might consider throwing that away rather than just holding it like nothing." The words are unexpected and Harry's unsure of how to feel.
"Right." He agrees before carefully removing Louis from atop of him and moving to toss the condom. When he walks back into the room Louis' sitting up, a mischievous smile painting his features. Harry cocks his eyebrow.
"You've got a nice arse is all." Louis shrugs before tossing Harry his briefs.
"Thanks." He whispers, though he's not sure for what; the compliment or the warmth of his boxers? It really is chilly in the room. Harry's only just pulled up his sweats when Louis appears in front of him and grabs him for a kiss.
"Gonna go bathe. Be right back!" He says cheerily before skipping off with the rest of his clothes. Harry's stands frozen for a bit before he cracks a smile and his heart feeling warm and fluttery. Harry's just finished cleaning up and setting things back the way they were when the boys get home. Harry found some frozen cookies in the freezer that he put to bake so the house no longer smells like the dirty sex he and Louis just had. Niall's especially cheery, carrying three brown bags full of groceries to the counters before he starts whipping it all out.
Liam walks in and sets the keys on the counter and pats Harry on the shoulder as he makes his way to the fridge. "Everything alright?"
"Fine." Harry says, focusing his attention back to the bowl he's scrubbing.
"And you? Feeling better?" Liam asks, half of his body inside the fridge as he moves the groceries Niall piled in around to make more space. Harry sighs, unsure as his gaze reaches Zayn flicking through the channels on the telly, resting on the freshly made couch. Just as he's about to answer with a simple "Yeah", Louis walks into the kitchen, freshly washed and looking as cute as ever, meeting Harry's gaze with a small wink and a sly smile before passing him and grabbing the carton of milk. Harry rinses the bowl in his hands and sets it on the counter to dry, drying his own hands on his sweats before answering Liam, his heart fluttering harder than ever and the biggest smile on his face.
"Great, actually." And of the many times these words have slipped from his mouth holding no more truth to them than "I'm okay, really", Harry truly means them.
"It's a good thing you were fucked up the night before, I think the boys might've been suspicious as to why you looked so fucked over when they came home that morning. Blaming it on your hangover was just prime." Louis laughs to himself, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares up at the ceiling.
"Lou," Harry tries, but Louis' not having it.
"Hey Harry, what about that one time, you and I were-"
"Louis!" Louis looks startled, but Harry's finally caught his attention. He sighs. "What are we doing?" He whispers, grabbing at Louis' hand as it begins to slide from his chest, trying not to sound angry. He's just lost, is all. "I love you, Lou."
It's the first time either of them have said it when not immediately following an intense affair of passion or being mumbled during. Louis' tense and Harry's looking at him with open, hopeful eyes and all the vulnerability in the world, but also all the sincerity.
"I love, Lou, you're my best friend." Harry's now laying on his side, holding himself up on his elbow, and still clutching Louis' hand in his own. Louis knows he should feel relieved at Harry's words, but all he can feel in the moment is more crushed and heartbroken than ever before. "You're my best friend," Harry starts carefully, feeling around every word as it leaves his lips. "But you're much more than that, so much more than that, Lou. It's you and me, remember? But we're not even you-and-me anymore, we're just you." He pauses, placing Louis' hand on his heart then bringing it back to his chest and placing it on his own. "And me."
Louis' silent. "I love you and I don't understand why you won't just let me."
Louis feels a squeeze at his heart and he doesn't know what to say. "It's not that simple, Harry." He decides it's a good excuse because, really, a relationship together wouldn't be.
"It is that simple, Louis." Harry's desperately trying to hold onto hope and get Louis to understand, but they both know he's at the end of the rope. "We used to be 'LouisandHarry', me and you, but we're not anymore. We're just Louis and Harry and I hate that. And, fuck me for saying it, but there was a time when I believed you didn't like it either. I love you, Louis, and I'm not afraid to say it. I want to be with you, but God damnit Louis, you're ignoring all of my attempts at getting you to understand that!" Harry squeezes Louis hand over his heart. "I love you, Lou, I just wish you'd let me do that."
Louis' truly at a loss for words. It's silent in the moments that follow until he finally speaks up. "Then love me, Harry. Love me, right here, right now, for as long as you want to just love me. 'Cause now I'm giving you permission and I don't think I'll ever want to take it back. Love me in any way you'd like but bloody hell Harry, just don't forget that I'll always love you, too."
And Louis' finally said the words that have been choking him since their first kiss. Harry's eyes are wide and Louis' watching him carefully, his heart beating a mile a minute. It's not long at all before Harry's shocked expression is transformed into a face splitting grin and he's pouncing on Louis, kissing him all over the face. He plants a big, wet kiss on Louis' pleasantly shocked lips and Harry's just the cutest little thing Louis' ever seen, all giddy and happy.
"You really mean it, Lou? You really love me?" Harry's biting his lip pretty hard, trying to hold back his grin and Louis thinks it must be hurting him pretty bad since his lips are white around where he's biting them instead of their usual rosy pink, and it's not even fractionally hiding his grin.
Louis cups Harry's hands, cupping his face. "Yes, Harry." He pauses, "I love you." Harry plants a fat kiss on his lips and Louis wipes at his mouth, mocking disgust. "Ugh, would you quit kissing me and make love to me already?"
"Of course." Harry smiles, leaning in for another kiss. Louis complies and moves his lips with Harry's, removing his shirt in the process. Harry pulls away, flushed and breathless as always.
He doesn't meet his eyes as he speaks, just plays with the hair at the side of Louis' face. "Hey, Lou? Do you remember what you said our first time, 'bout how you could go for days, giving me a blow?" Louis cocks his eyebrow and even though Harry doesn't see it he knows this is his response. "Well, do you think you could, um-" Harry's twirling Louis' hair between his fingers now - he might be open and shameless, but he's also a worrywart considerate. Louis rolls his eyes and scoffs, flipping them both over.
He stares Harry at him with Bambi eyes, noses touching and only centimeters away. "Only if you call me daddy." He says, and when Harry nods, wide-eyed and silent, Louis begins his decent down Harry's body. Soon enough Harry's hands are in Louis' hair messing up his perfect fringe, eyes screwed tight and panting broken "Daddy" 's as they create a new memory:
The first time they said 'I love you' to each other (and meant for the other to hear it).