That Sounds Fake But Okay

Chapter 8

"Hmmmpf." Harry's face hits the pillow hard as he scrambles toward the headboard.

"And where do you think you're going?" comes the calm, steady voice from behind him.

Before Harry can respond, he feels his ankles being gripped firmly, and suddenly he's being pulled back down the length of the bed. Again.

"Fucking hell , Louis," he whines as he feels Louis' tongue making its way back inside him for what feels like the fiftieth time in the past hour. He rests his sweaty brow on his forearms and tries to breathe.

Apparently, Louis really is into the punishment thing they had laughed about in St. Louis. Only, it turns out he'd rather be on the giving end of it.

It had all started earlier in the evening when Louis was sorting through the mail in his kitchen while Harry sat on the counter, digging absentmindedly through the fruit bowl. They'd just gotten back from a highly-papped date to Michael's, where they'd lunched on spring pea soup and wedge salads, and the MoMA, where they'd pretended to be very interested in the Degas exhibit while really just whispering filthy things in each other's ears.

"What the fuck is this? What's Cielo?" Louis asked Harry as he struggled to rip the envelope open.

"Beats me," Harry shrugged, bypassing an apple to reach for a handful of grapes.

Louis' eyes scanned the paper briefly, confused. Then, realization dawned.

"Are you shitting me?! Harry, this is a bill for $744.12 from that club we went to. It says it's for broken plates. What the hell? We didn't break any plates!"

Harry paused mid-chew, his eyes wide.

Louis grabbed his phone and started dialing, outrage seething in his voice. "I'll have one of the Sams straighten it out. Can you believe that, Harry? They're trying to charge me $750 for broken plates ?"

Harry leapt off the counter and kissed Louis, fiercely and passionately, taking him by surprise and causing him to drop the phone. Louis didn't protest, sinking into the kiss and allowing Harry to turn him around and hoist him up on the island. As he wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, Sam Clifton's voice came through the line.

"Hello? Hello? Louis?"

"Mmmmm," Harry moaned loudly into Louis' mouth, his hand blindly reaching for the phone to push it further away.

"Louis? Is that you?"

Louis attempted to break away from the kiss and retrieve his phone, but Harry pulled him back, and he was powerless to resist. Eventually, Sam Clifton gave up and ended the call.

"What was that all about?" Louis asked, breathless, when Harry finally let him pull away for a moment. Their faces were so close together that their noses were almost touching, and Harry could still feel the sting of the kiss on his lips as he looked into Louis' sky-blue eyes. Goddammit, it was so hard to lie to those eyes.

Harry bit his lip. "I might have broken some plates that night."

"What?! When?!"

Harry stared at the floor and scuffed the toe of his boot against the tiles. "Um. On my way out. When the bouncer was escorting me out the back."

Louis hesitated a moment, trying to recall the exact events of that night. Then he tried his very best to look serious, although the idea of Harry belligerently smashing plates on his way out of the club after punching Aiden in the face made him want to grin from ear to ear and start kissing Harry all over again.

"And why'd you do that?"

"I was upset, okay? It felt really good at the time. I'll pay for the plates, I promise." Harry nuzzled his face into Louis' neck and dragged his lips against the stubble there. "Now are you going to let me blow you while you sit on this counter or...?"