Home Is Where He Is

His Golden Shine

Louis grins back - the corners of his eyes are crinkled happily when he pulls away, and he runs his thumb over Harry's bottom lip, just once.

“There is a bed,” he nods. “Never slept in. I was saving it for a special occasion.”

Harry throws his arms out to the sides. “Here it is!”

Louis cackles. He does step back to let Harry stand upright and collect himself, but he lasts exactly three seconds before he's got his hands on Harry's hips, kissing him as he blindly navigates them out of the room. Harry bangs his shoulder blade against the doorframe, and barely notices.

The bedroom - presumably - is only a couple of rooms over. Louis crashes into the door back first with all of Harry's weight on him, and when he presses down on the handle they both lose their balance. They don't quite end up on the ground, but it's a close thing, and again, Harry doesn't care - he's got Louis, happy and laughing, right in front of him.

He does look around the room, just for a second, to locate the bed - and freezes.

“Babe?” Louis asks. “All right? Did you change your-“

“You bought a four-posted bed,” Harry says in disbelief. And what a bed it is - huge, ridiculously ornate, made of gorgeous dark wood.

“I told you I did,” Louis replies, running one of his fingers along Harry's waistband.

“I thought you were joking,” Harry squeaks. For some inexplicable reason, just looking at the bed makes him antsy in the best way. “This is-wow.”

“Best try it out, just to make sure you like the mattress,” Louis laughs. He pushes away from the wall, starts toward the centre of the room and leaves Harry behind.

Harry follows. He's about to make fun of Louis for how completely transparent he is, but then Louis reaches the bed, sits down, and takes off his t-shirt.

Harry's mouth goes completely bone-dry. Various parts of his body start screaming at him all at once - about how badly he needs to touch the soft slope of Louis's nose, and kiss the corner of his lips, and fix the hair that he's messed up while undressing, and get his mouth on the endless golden skin of Louis's chest. All of them add up to needing to be exactly where Louis is, so Harry gives in to the pull and crosses the room to his husband.

“Really?” Louis asks, leaning back on his elbows, so painfully, casually gorgeous. “Won't even take your shirt off? You're making me look a little desperate, babe.”

“You'll live,” Harry grins, and the second he's within reach, he lands on top of Louis and all but covers his body with his own. Louis's hands are in his hair immediately, much firmer than before, pulling him close and holding him there while Louis licks his way into Harry's mouth. “Besides, I want you to take it off.”

Louis moans, and the second he does, Harry completely loses himself. The sound goes straight to his cock, breaks some kind of barrier Harry had been desperately holding on to. Every tickle of Louis's breath over his skin, every brush of his fingers as he pulls on Harry's shirt and gets it over his head, feels electric.

“Jesus,” Louis mumbles, his hands immediately on Harry's naked skin, passing every ridge of muscle slow and thorough like she's worshipping it. “Oh my God, Harry.”

Harry kisses him, harder than he had before, determined to get a taste of every last corner of his mouth. Louis meets him more than eagerly, his lips wet and sweet, his body a beacon on the bare mattress.

Harry touches everywhere he can possibly reach - Louis's chest, the beautiful hollows of his collarbones, that spot where his waist narrows, warm skin on warm skin. He tries to taste some of it, but he's drawn right back up to the slender column of Louis's neck, just a little too perfect.