Have I forgotten how to love; remind me once again

Chapter Twenty-Five

A/N My brother had a slush-ice machine for his birthday yesterday, and though my parents obviously love him more, I have consumed unholy amounts of slush-ice so I'm the real winner, honestly?!

Waking up with a warm body slouched across his own feels simultaneously as familiar as ever and completely estranged, and so Louis has to look down his chest to connect the feelings rushing through his body to what's actually happening.

And there he is; Harry's head resting on Louis' chest with one arm over his waist and a leg between Louis', holding on as if Louis will disappear from between his hands while in reality Harry has been the one to be gone in the mornings.

Harry has actually been sleeping in a T-shirt this time, but it's made its way up his body, now bunched under his armpits and leaving his stomach and most of his chest exposed and pressed firmly against Louis' body, the only other article of clothing being his red shorts that are lining up perfectly with Louis' black football ones and - yeah, Louis is going to have to think about something else for a while, or things are bound to get awkward when Harry wakes up.

Grandmas. Creepy old men. Teachers - well, there was that one... No! Avocados. Women.

Louis' train of thoughts is broken by a thumb poking his cheek and a muffled laugh against his cheek. "Why is your face looking like that?" Harry mumbles, his gruff morning voice undoing all the good work Louis has just put into distracting himself. It's probably a good thing that Harry's focus is on his face.

"Like what?" Louis responds, even though he is very well aware of what Harry is talking about, glancing down to meet Harry's curious eyes. "Like all focused and disgusted. Is it that bad sleeping with me?".

Harry trying to kill him, that's absolutely certain, or he'd consider his words more carefully. Or maybe he's just too perfect for morning boners - Louis knows that isn't true, but he's just slightly frustrated at the moment.

"No. No. Was just thinking", is the best response he can come up with, but luckily Harry accepts it and simply muffles closer to Louis' body, which again, not helping. Then out of nowhere, Harry decides to go for the kill, using a finger to draw slow patterns across Louis' tummy as he casually throws out, "Just so you know, we're not going to have sex with my mum in the house".

There's no way Harry misses the way Louis' breath hitches at that, considering his head is literally resting on top of his chest, yet Louis still tries to keep it casual as he huffs out in a tone that seems like a bad impression of a laid-back person, "I wasn't aware we were about to have sex".

Harry laughs at that, and Louis curses him for being so unaffected at this, seemingly finding it funny to make Louis uncomfortable. "We aren't." Harry says seriously, once again drawing patterns on Louis' skin which luckily keeps his focus on that area. "

I don't put out until the third date", he smiles, and Louis barely gets time to react to that bold statement before Harry cheekily adds, "So better hurry up with the next two", and this time there is no playing it casual as Louis' heart skips several beats along with his breath. He might physically jolt a bit as well.

Of course, Harry giggles at that reaction, only proving to Louis that the younger boy indeed is a menace who enjoys drawing out a reaction from Louis. "Well, now it sounds like I'm just trying to get in your pants if I ask you on another date, but I really don't have anything better to spend my time on." Louis retorts, deciding to play along with whatever game Harry is playing.

"That's why I'm taking you on a date." The younger boy declares as he pushes himself off Louis' body and unfortunately pulls their shared duvet with him as well, leaving Louis terribly exposed in his boxers and T-shirt that isn't quite long enough to hide anything. Harry looks down once, smirks, and then gets off the bed while Louis blushes furiously, despite Harry brushing right past it as he continues talking. "And the whole 'nothing better to do' would sound so much more romantic if you weren't unemployed without anything to do."