One Shots {l.s.}

Hands and Knees For Two Days Straight (Cont.)

When he awoke, it was nighttime. He was in bed with Harry, their own bed, wrapped up warm and dry and around one another. Harry must've moved him to the room once he'd seen that Louis had fallen asleep. Louis leaned up on one elbow and looked down at his sleeping boy.

How did he get so lucky?

Without waking his boyfriend, Louis climbed out the bed and left the room. He figured they could have one more round before it got too late. He went back to the room where they'd spent the day and turned on the light. The room was just as they left it- the bondage frame upright, camera still on, plates on the bed, half-eaten sandwiches now crusted over.

Louis' stomach tightened slightly as he remembered the events from earlier, remembered Harry's food kink. Louis would have found it laughable if the sight of Harry extremely turned on didn't do things to his own hormones.

"Sandwiches, Harry, really." Louis went to the chest at the end of the bed, the lid still propped open. The chest was filled with items- blinfolds, flavored lube, boxes of unopened condoms, a few types of whips, some bondage equipment, lighters. He didn't know why in the world he had those- maybe Harry had a secret fire kink? Louis silently hoped that wasn't the case, but after the sandwich incident he knew he could never be too sure.
He rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.

Louis smirked and stood up, leaving the room promptly and returing to Harry. When he went inside, Harry was still asleep, his breathing still deep and even. Louis closed the door behind him and crawled back into bed next to Harry. He watched him sleep, his face peaceful, before he reached out and pulled the blankets down slowly.

Harry was clad in nothing but a clean pair of boxers that clung snugly to his hips. His tattoos stood out, stark black against his pale skin, his sparrows rising and falling as he breathed. Louis traced a finger over them, the biggest one first then the smallest one, his heart thumping loudly as he went.

He sighed and glanced down at the bird that decorated his own arm, the compass above it. It was crazy to think about sometimes, the fierce amount of love and devotion they had towards one another. It was scary, thrilling, real. It made his head spin.

Louis smiled softly as he admired Harry's body. He counted the freckles that covered Harry's skin, noticed every single distinction. He picked up the item he'd retrieved from the room and snapped it open. The sound reverberated throughout the room, but Harry was still fast asleep. Louis took the tip of the blade closer to Harry's skin and ran it lightly over.

Harry flinched slightly and Louis drew back, not wanting to cut him. A moment later he placed the blade again, running it softly from the bone of Harry's hip up to his shoulder, light as a tickle of air.
Harry sighed and blinked his eyes open. Louis ran the knife from one shoulder to the other, crossing Harry's chest with as light a touch as he could muster without completely raising the blade.

"You have an interesting way of waking me up," Harry said, his voice groggy. He didn't move, however, and Louis was grateful.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. The space around them was quiet and calm, and Louis didn't want to break that by being too loud. He ran the blade from Harry's shoulder and down to his other hip bone, making the younger male shudder. "Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive." Harry kept his eyes on Louis as he took the knife lower, to his thigh, and swirled it in a cirlce. Harry gasped through his nose and shivered.