True Colours

Between denial and acceptance

Louis watching him as he slowly pulls the grey sweater over his head, it is a mixture of embarrassment and excitement at the same time. Harry feels so on display while Louis sits unmoved on the sofa, watching his every move, that Harry feels so small again. And yet it does something to him. Like last time. Harry loves that from this moment on he has nothing more to say, that Louis alone claims the power to say what happens next.

“Go on darling. Slowly run your hands down your upper body to your pants and take them off,” Louis says quietly.

Harry complies immediately, his fingertips touching his nipples on the way down, which become erect and make him sigh softly. With cheeks turning pink, he opens his pants so that they fall to his ankles.

“Today in black? A pity. Loved pink on you so much,” Louis comments.

Yes, Harry loved it himself too. But it's too feminine and he has a plan to follow. Immediately unsure that Louis might find him less attractive, he completely stops in his movements and stares beneath himself.

“What's wrong baby?” Louis' voice is immediately softer and it feels like a hug for him. Harry literally wallows in the feeling it gives him.

“Do you still like me? Am I still good?” Harry asks quietly and finally dares to look up, completely lost in his need to please Louis.

Louis stands up and comes towards him. His hands rest on his bare chest and he looks deeply into his eyes.

“You are so good darling. And you’re beautiful,” Louis breathes in a rough voice. His hands begin to move gently and Louis underlines his caresses with words.

“I love your tattoos and how they contrast against your milky soft skin. Just like your nipples, all of them. I especially like your face…”

Harry swallows as Louis' hands move up his upper body and cup both of his cheeks. Louis gently strokes Harry's lips with his thumb, which opens slightly without him being able to do anything about it.

“Look at me,” Louis asks, their eyes boring into each other. “You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever looked into. Love how green they are, so deep I could sink into them.”

"Thank you," Harry breathes quietly, feeling so hot and cold at the same time from it all. Harry loves what Louis says to him, the way he says it, everything feels so right again, just like last time. Louis' warm hands on his body exactly where they should be, his smaller body standing so close to him as if it were shaped for Harry's. His head is so wonderfully still, while a warmth floods through him from his insides and he never wants to leave this state.

“You have the most beautiful dimples but nothing, absolutely nothing, comes close to that mouth,” Louis whispers, leaning up.

His mouth hovers over Harry's and they both close their eyes, breathing in each other, waiting for what's about to happen. Finally, Louis gently presses his lips to his, waiting a moment as Harry catches his breath.

"Is this okay?" Louis whispers against his lips, sending the slightest vibrations against them.

"More," is all Harry can say.

Louis immediately complies with his request, pulls him closer to him with both hands still on his cheeks, kisses him more forcefully and Harry is on fire just by it. How can it be that he finds the combination of Louis‘ oh so soft lips and the stubble around his mouth so attractive? That it feels so good? He needs more of it and buries his own hands in Louis' hair.

Louis' tongue begs for entry, running along his lips and Harry eagerly grants it, desperate for more. Even when kissing, Louis is exactly what he needs. Leading yet gentle. Harry completely loses himself in it, enjoying every second of what Louis makes him feel.