On The Horizon || L.S.

Day 5: Cozumel, Mexico

Wednesday, the 17th of August, 2022

Harry slept like a brick, snuggling against his pillows. They still harbour the intoxicating smell of sex. The two of them had barely even broken a sweat, yet it seems to coat the sheets with a layer of addicting cologne and natural musk. Back when he was in school, if a partner left their sweatshirt with him, he'd inhale it until the scent was gone, flaunting his new attire anywhere he went and raising the sleeves to his nose every five minutes. Embarrassing behaviour, frankly, but at least no one is here to see him go feral over pheromones.

When daylight breaks and his alarm blares, he couldn't be less excited to pull himself away and shower off the night before, only able to justify it by taking a few extra minutes to be selfish. He remembers the way Louis sent him into overdrive; grazes his fingers over every inch of skin Louis had touched.

At first, he just brushes over his ears and neck, leaning against the hard plastic walls of the tiny shower, but then he drags his hands along his chest and then his nipples, tugging on them a few times to make his toes curl and feel the jolt of electricity it sends down his spine. When he finally takes hold of himself, it's with a pleased little smirk dancing on his face, eyes shut as he daydreams.

It had been insane, the way that Louis set him on fire before even touching him properly, leaving him shaking and on another plane of existence. There isn't much time to spare, so he has to rush through, but while he thrusts mindlessly into his fist, imagining it exactly like the night before, Harry also drags a hand along his scalp before tugging his hair.

The pressure makes him groan, moving faster as he digs his fingers into his scalp with intent. His muscles tighten in anticipation, and he pictures Louis hovering above him, looking down with a devilish grin, and sealing their lips together. Absentmindedly he runs his tongue back and forth between his lips, and before long, the combined sensations have him shaking through his orgasm, come shooting down the opposite wall and dripping into the drain.

In the aftershocks, he massages his scalp, nails scraping along the skin. Seems like something Louis would do.

You're going to be so fucking late, horny bastard.

"Shit," he mutters, eyes shooting back open. Their underground cavern tour - an excursion Louis picked - requires nearly two hours of travel, so they would be getting off the boat almost as soon as it docks. The wake-up time he'd set allows some wiggle room, but masturbation wasn't something he usually factored into the calculations. He rushes to clean his body and hair, dries off fast, and coats himself in sun cream for the day.

Once he gets a hold of his phone again, Harry is relieved to see that he's more than on time; he's pretty early. Taking advantage, he allows himself to pop over to the garden cafe and grab a sandwich before heading to the excursion meet-up spot, the auditorium.

Being there so early in the morning is a bit odd, considering once you're inside, it's hard to tell what time it is. The only thing that's a dead giveaway is the large groups milling about, biding their time by napping in seats and nursing coffee in takeaway cups. The only people who don't look completely dead are the older crowd who likely didn't go to a silent disco and get off with their sexy cruise husband.

Harry whistles to himself through upturned lips. Sexy, sexy cruise husband, indeed.

Speaking of -

"Hah! I beat you!" The northern accent that has become a staple of his holiday breaks into his thoughts, and he flicks his eyes down a few rows of seats to see Louis, hand on his cocked hip, looking as energised as ever. Not just the oldies, after all. His tired haze has a hard time moving past the train of thought.