And Then A Bit

Timestamp

 A short timestamp set before the epilogue and seven months after the last chapter. Smut, fluff, too much talk about marriage and maybe a couple's tattoo.

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When Harry finally enters their house after having been in LA for three weeks, it's to the smell of burnt food. And, like, not just burnt as in 'oh that got a little bit too much heat, better take it off the hob now', but as in 'call the fucking fire brigade and evacuate the building', and he's just a little bit confused. Now, it might be the ten hours flight and the jetlag starting to hit, but somehow the smell of burnt food and eerie silence isn't what he expected to come home to. For a moment he wonders if maybe he should be worried, because, like, Louis knows how to cook, he's not totally incompetent. He's cooked Harry a tasty variety of different dishes over the last seven months they've officially been dating, and none of them had been even a little bit charred. Actually, the more Harry thinks about it, the more he actually starts to genuinely worry, because surely there must be something seriously wrong if Louis burned so completely that Harry can smell it all the way in their foyer.

Louis better not be passed out somewhere in the house. They've only been engaged for a month, and three fourths of that was spent apart, so he'd much prefer his fiancé to be conscious now that they're finally reunited for more than phone calls and skype sex.

"Lou," he calls out, shrugging off his jacket and pulling off his boots. "Love, where are you?"

"Bugger all, Harold," Louis appears in the doorway leading to their dining room, naked and dripping wet save a towel draped around his slim hips. He looks fantastic, his body - for the lack of better words - a wonderland. Smooth and wet, tanned and strong, lean and so delicious looking Harry quite feels like he needs to pounce on him immediately, sink his teeth into Louis' peck, run his tongue over every part of him, licking away the water droplets shining on Louis' chest, cherish every part of him. They haven't physically been together for three bloody weeks, and Harry feels his mouth go dry with just how much he's craving Louis.

"You're early, damn," Louis continues to blabber, almost like he hasn't quite registered that Harry's really there in actual flesh and blood. "You weren't supposed to be home for another hour."

"Eh," Harry says dumbly, brain barely capable of making out what is being said. He forces his eyes from the outline of Louis' cock as he can see it through the fabric of the towel, and up to meet Louis'. "The wind was with us," he manages to get out, "Saved some time, that. And no traffic on the way over. Baggage claim was quick. Missed you." Fuck, he's rambling, barely making sense, surely, but Louis cracks a smile, frown turning into one of those grins that crinkle his eyes, pure joy etched into every one of his features.

"You're home," Louis says, almost reverently, like he hadn't even realised it until that very moment. "Fuck."

"Fuck." Harry repeats, agrees. He smiles, the corners of his lips curling upwards, dimples deepening.

He's home.

"Fuck." Louis laughs, shaking his head like he can't believe it. "Baby, c'mere." He opens his arms and steps towards Harry, and, fucking hell, how they even waited this long to touch each other, Harry'll never understand, but he's just happy now that he can fall into Louis' arms, clutching him close.

The water that previously clung to Louis' skin now soaks through Harry's t-shirt, like he is some sort of human towel for Louis to use. He can't really say that he minds, though, particularly not when Louis tangles his fingers in Harry's hair and pulls slightly, just enough to get Harry down to his level so they can seal their lips together finally.

It's every single cliché, really. Like a piece of bread to the famished, water to the dehydrated, heat to the cold. Kissing Louis will always be the very best sensation, Harry's sure of it. Just being close to the other man is enough to make Harry both happy and content indefinitely. Louis is home. Harry's never felt so comfortable around someone else before, and it's only gotten better, more intimate, more period, since their mutual romantic relationship started seven months ago. Everything has been magnified tenfold, and Harry's wakes up every day feeling like the happiest and luckiest bloke on the planet. He usually wakes up next to Louis, so he's pretty sure that assessment isn't too off.