i love you (it's ruining my life) » l.s.

four

The sun-soaked days passed by in a heady blur and Louis couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so deeply sated and happy.

While at first Louis reduced this trip to having some good sex and writing songs, he somehow got more than that. He got to see the city of Paris through Harry's eyes, exploring every corner and experiencing it the way he did. They spent hours walking through Montmartre, sharing croissants and hot chocolate in a corner cafe before perusing the different art and vendor stalls along the streets. They watched the sunset over the Eiffel Tower from Harry's balcony, naked as the day they were born, and fed each other fresh strawberries from the farmer's market. Harry also managed to get Louis to wake up early and go jogging with him along the Seine so they could watch the sunrise together.

Every day they did something fun, and Louis could now understand why Harry loved this city as much as he did.

The two of them also managed to fuck in every room in Harry's flat, insatiable like they were on their cycles. It was knotting that had changed things. Now that they'd done it once, they couldn't stop, sometimes going at least twice before leaving the bed in the morning and another couple more times before they fell asleep. Louis wasn't sure he'd ever had this much sex even when he'd been in exclusive relationships. Something about Harry had him in a tight grip, anchored to the omega, eager to fulfil everything he wanted or asked for, including being tied up and edged for two hours. And don't get Louis wrong — the sex had always been mind-blowing with Harry, but now that he was knotting his pretty cunt, Louis felt like they'd tapped into a whole other level of euphoria.

All in all, Louis thought, as he walked alongside Harry on his last night in Paris, it was a good trip. He'd gotten what he'd hoped for, including the inspiration he'd been looking for. Maybe Niall was onto something when he said Louis would find it in Harry. Just a few days together and suddenly the words flowed out of the alpha like poetry. He wrote about green eyes peering at him in the morning light, lust heavy, and magnetic. Rouge lips pulling him in like a drug, disarming and addictive. Feeling like he was home every time he was inside of him, familiar and so perfectly made for him.

"Who are you texting?" Harry asked him, snapping Louis out of his thoughts.

Louis glanced up from his phone, the screen open on the notes app where he was jotting lyrics down. "No one," he replied, closing the phone and pocketing it.

"Are you sure? You keep typing and smiling. It's rude," the omega called him out pointedly.

Louis giggled, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist. "I promise."

Harry pursed his lips for a moment, contemplatively.

"What?" Louis asked him.

"Ziggy told me at your last show that you have some Parisien lover. From, like, years ago. If you want to see them, by all means, go ahead. I just want you to be upfront about it."

Louis let out a quiet groan as he pulled Harry to a stop and pressed him against the wall in the alleyway they were in. "You're annoying, did you know that?"

"So are you, darling," Harry taunted him, tilting his head to the side.

The alpha shifted closer, pressing a kiss where Harry's neck met his shoulder, and instantly Harry melted against him, a laugh coming out like a symphony. "You know what I think?" Louis asked, licking over Harry's bond spot.

"What?"

"I think all that champagne has gone to your head and you're just talking shit. I'm not texting any Parisien lover of mine."

Harry blinked prettily at him and nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" Louis smiled, chuckling at the way Harry's eyes softened. His lips skimmed the base of Harry's throat, gliding along his neck with open-mouthed kisses.