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

15

That Thursday arrived sooner than Harry was to expect. It was not long until he was sizing up Louis with different lengthened wetsuits. Louis had insisted that he could deal with the tog that Harry had, but Harry reminded him that half of their bodies would be submerged in some of the coldest water they would experience, and Louis’s (soft, delicate, smooth) skin would not be able to cope with such violation.

“I’m not that small!” Louis cried as Harry pulled out kid’s wetsuit. To be fair, it was the biggest he had, and it was only to check the size, so Louis’s cries were not entirely relevant.

“I just wanna see the chest width, that’s all.”

“I’m not a child, Hitch! I have muscle, y’know!”

“I know that,” smirked Harry, “but just humour me, alright?”

“Fine,” Louis sighed. He straightened up and let Harry measure up the wetsuit to his body. The arms were way too small even without being stretched because of Louis’s biceps, and even the legs were, causing Louis to smile, pleased, at himself.

“I think I know which one’ll fit,” Harry affirmed. He slid the wetsuit back onto the rack and rummaged through another rail. The smell of rubber was overwhelming. Harry was used to it and had become accustomed to the strong scent, but Louis kept sniffing with a scrunched up nose and distaste threaded through his features. His hands, though, could not resist running over the soft material. Rows upon rows of tightly packed wetsuits were all that he could see, arms shouldering their way into his sight.  Louis could see how Harry could become so immersed in a place like this, in a town like so.

“Hopefully it won’t be too baggy under the arms. I think I might have a smaller one in the back somewhere, but I think the legs will fit best with this one,” said Harry. He chucked the thick wetsuit to Louis, who caught with in a tangle.

“Where d’you want me to change?” Louis asked as he toed off his shoes.

“Nobody’s gunna come in here, but you can get changed in the back if you’d prefer that,” Harry suggested. He, however, had chosen the former, evidently, as he was peeling off his clothes in replacement for his usual black suit. Louis just shrugged and copied Harry. He had done a sinful amount of things without any clothes in the open beach, so he was pretty sure his humiliation scale was of the higher rather than the lower, pitiful amount that someone like, say, Liam’s would be.

Harry, who was obviously used to heaving on such a tight piece of clothing, was stripped and halfway in his wetsuit before Louis had even figured out which way it went. Of course, Louis was not that stupid, and that was merely just an act to be able to sneak private looks at the lean bodied boy in front of him with a lovely lack of clothing. His muscles flexed under his skin, his back rippling. Louis wanted to press his fingertips in the valleys and canyons of his body. What was a surprise, a pleasant one at that, was Harry stripping down to being purely naked. And, well, that, of course, was a feast for Louis’s eyes. Seeing him bend over, bare arsed and endless amounts of pale skin, made him instinctively lick his lips. Unfortunately, though, Harry had turned around and so the opposite side to the round cheeks was not on show. But, hey, Louis was not going to complain. He had seen it many times anyway, seeing it flaccid and trying to be squished into a skin tight suit would probably be more of a turn-off than a turn-on, what with the apparent discomfort it would bring.

Once Harry had pulled on the suit, and not yet done it up, he turned to Louis, who was standing awkwardly.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Louis confessed, staring at the pile of material lying limp on the floor. Instead of laughing at him, Harry just smiled knowingly and shuffled his way (without any sound of chafing, Louis noticed, and upon glancing down at his thighs, realised that it would sadly not be a similar experience for him) over to a close-to-nude Louis.