And Now A Piece Of Me Is A Piece Of The Beach || larry stylinson

10

It was around a week later and everyone was gathered at the LouAndTomAndLux household for Sunday Dinner. Harry tried not to think about how Louis’s invitation was just a given now, not a kind offering. He also cast a trundling thought to the side when it started mentioning the fact that Louis sat beside him rather than the offer to sit beside Lou, because, no, there was nothing behind that at all.

Speaking of Louis, actually, he always seemed to be working. He took every available shift until his bones were drained and his skin was soft with wear rather than life. Harry’s rather sly, he thought, enquiry to Lou got nothing more than a sideward glance and a shrug. He decided not to contemplate the fact that she went and checked on how Tom was doing in the kitchen, when she never did that normally, unless she wanted to escape something.

Harry did not really notice when Louis’s hand started to trace circles on his inner thigh. He had been trying so hard to keep his attention on Nick’s drawling tone that he had missed the light touches trailing over his jeans. When Nick’s voice took itself to that point where everything blurs into one, Harry caught onto the heat that was seeping through to his skin. A jolt struck through his body in reaction, the heat shooting up the left side of his body and curling up at the join of his jaw. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the tweak of Louis’ lips upwards in a discreet smirk.

Once Harry had noticed, Louis seemed to press harder on his flesh. His fingertip ran along the seam of Harry’s jeans, stopping a few inches from the join. The heel of his hand was edging ever closer to Harry’s crotch, yet only his fingers were felt. Heat radiated from the palm of his hand and through the material of his jeans, burning the skin with arousal. Louis let his whole hand stretch over his thigh and rubbed it up and down teasingly.

Harry vaguely tuned back into Nick’s ramblings, but the man seemed to have gotten distracted and was babbling about nothing to Caroline instead. Harry would have taken pity on her, but the creeping hand on his thigh was much more tempting.

It was obvious what Louis was trying to do. The smirk on his face was enough of an answer, really. Something bubbled in Harry’s chest and an idea sprung to mind. Picking up his knife and fork to resume eating, he tilted his head slightly in Louis’ direction. He quirked his eyebrow up, challenging Louis to lay his worst onto him. Louis seemed to catch on fairly quickly, and gave a lopsided smirk back.  Well, then.

His fingers started dancing closer and closer to Harry’s crotch, delicate patterns being drawn like a carefully crafted painting. Harry could feel his insides coiling in a passionate tango that left him fighting for breath. Finally, Louis’s touches brushed over the tightening crotch of his jeans. Four strapped together moved in circles, each round gaining pressure. The heel of his hand droppe, and his fingers grasped the curve of his jeans. Louis’s hand clenched and unclenched, massaging the growing bulge beneath it.

All the while, Harry was trying his best to keep up his undeterred and attentive facade. The biting of his lip looked too suspicious when Louis started to press his palm down harder, so he changed to focusing on his breathing. Tendrils of air filtered from his nostrils, trying to be kept discreet but failing somewhat.

“Getting a little hot, are we?” Louis whispered in his ear.

Harry gulped. He turned his face, their lips close. “Nah, just got too many layers on.”

“I’m sure I could help you take some of them off...” Louis muttered suggestively.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis confirmed, slipping his fingertips under Harry’s t-shirt to prod at the soft of his stomach. He tugged the hem a few times and then stood up all of a sudden, pulling Harry up with him.