The Sun and His Moon

24

"Yeah yeah kiss me already," Louis groaned, pulling at Harry's bare waist. "And burn my pancakes? Go find something else to do, Tomlinson," he dismissed, staring at the frying pan. "You could be having me bent across the counter or up against the wall by now but you choose to make fucking pancakes?" he questioned, poking at Harry's back dimples. Harry nodded, not even bothering to give him a verbal answer. "Fine. Fuck your pancakes. Literally," he huffed, pulling off his shirt. "What exactly are you doing?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Taking off my shirt, Styles. What do you think I am doing honestly?" Louis snapped. "I can see that. Why?" he asked, amused. "Because it's a free country and I can do whatever I want and currently I want to be naked," he seethed, stomping away but not without Harry smacking his arse first. "It's cute," he chuckled. "Your dick would be real cute in it," he grumbled, walking back into the bedroom. Harry smiled giddily at himself, Louis was all his. If there was one thing that made Harry think Louis was all his, it was how comfortable Louis was with himself around him. How he let himself go around him, how he trusted Harry to still want him the same even if he wasn't prim and proper.

"I'll go get the door," Harry smiled, taking off his t-shirt and slipping it on Louis. "And this is because?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just you know, people have a tendency to visit me without informing me first and you're all marked up," Harry informed, smirking at the marked-up part. "Don't get ahead of yourself here, Styles," he glared playfully. "Don't blame me. I've got my pretty boy in my kitchen. Not much to complain about here," he smirked, earning a soft smack from Louis. "I'll be back," he pecked Louis' forehead, making him go soft.

Harry walked up to the door, not even bothering to look into the peephole, the guards wouldn't have let them in if they weren't his regular guests. He opened the door to find his father and....Esther. He froze, this wasn't okay. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He wasn't wearing a shirt in front of her. "Good afternoon, Harry," Robin smiled, walking in. "Good afternoon, father," he replied, locking the door. "I'll um I'll go put on a shirt. Please sit down in the living room," he dismissed himself, pacing into the hallway leading to his bedroom. Fuck Louis was sitting in the dining room, pecking at pancakes and waiting for him to come back and feed him. The dining room was just beside the living room. He breathed in weakly, pulling on a jumper that was lying on the floor before rushing outside again.

"You never told me Louis was here," Robin raised an eyebrow. Louis was uncomfortable. He wasn't dressed properly. "Yeah he and I were uh talking about that project last night and it got really late so I asked him to stay the night," Harry explained. "Uhm excuse me please," Louis coughed before walking away to a guest room. "Good to see you finally getting under the lad's skin," Robin remarked. "As in?" he asked, sitting on the couch farthest from her. "As in you clearly slept with him. It's going to be easier to handle him from now on," he explained. Harry felt his stomach turn. "This isn't what you think it is," he said calmly. "He's gay and you are...bi and clearly good looking? It is you doing what's best for the company. Honestly, I always thought he was going to be our most difficult investor but look at you," he smiled, looking proud of Harry. Proud? "No don't look at me like that, father. I love him. I didn't do this for the greater good of the company. I love him alright? I won't be going into further detail because I know you don't give a damn about me. Just know I don't think anything you think of him," he explained calmly. Robin didn't say anything, he stared at the wall behind Harry. Esther got up and walked over to Harry, sitting down beside him. "It's okay, Harry. You can't control whom you love or whom you find attractive. I am completely in support of any decision you make," she comforted, rubbing his back. You can't control whom you love. That sick bitch. His hair stood up, throat closing in on itself. "Inhaler. The basket on the table," he choked and Robin rushed to give him the device. This was his son after all. "Are you okay, son?" he fumbled, quickly going over to rub his back. He abruptly stood up, putting the inhaler back into the basket. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for visiting," he smiled. "Can we see your apartment? You could give us a tour of it if you like?" she asked softly. "Yeah um sure. Follow me," he answered.