All That You Are Is All I'll Ever Need

11

It is a Thursday and the hot summer air is floating around and seeping into their skin, dripping back out in beads of sweat. Louis went out and bought an air conditioner for the flat, hooked it into one of the small windows on the kitchen side of the flat with minimal fuss, ("You think you could go outside and hold the back side up so it’s easier?" "Louis, I think the heat is getting to you. We are on the second floor. Do you know how many fingers I am holding up, darling?" "Don't sass me, Harold." "Seriously though, do you need me to help or not?" "No, go away." "Okay, don't forget to take it out of the box first." “Oh shut up.") and now all they can do is sit inside. Because the world outside is melting, and Harry and Louis can make each other melt just fine on their own without the help of the sun, thank you very much.

“I got you something,” Harry looks over to Louis curiously, “well, more than something.”

Louis is only in his pants and Harry is in a thin cotton t-shirt that barely covers up his bum. His bum that is laced in plain silky panties, a lovely pearl pink against his skin. If it wasn't so sodding hot, Louis might be a little more than half hard by the sight.

Harry laughs, “Of course you did.”

Louis rolls his eyes, smiling fondly as he reaches for his backpack at the side of the couch. He pulls out another bag, it’s plastic and makes a crinkly noise, and Louis sits cross legged on the opposite end of the couch, putting the bag between them. They would sit closer, but it's too bloody hot.

Louis scoots the bag to him a bit more, shyly almost, even though he buys Harry things often. It just makes him so happy giving Harry what he deserves, showing him the appreciation he has for him in different ways.

He watches as Harry opens the bag, biting back his grin as Harry's eyes shimmer over and two holes indent his cheeks. "Louis," he murmurs in awe.

“I got that bonus refund money I was telling you about. Don't worry, I put some back, but c’mon, you know me,” he shrugs, "had to buy you something."

Harry nods in response, eyes trailing back to the bag, “I've never used this colour before,” he says lightly, pulling out a neon chartreuse colour and looking over the bottle.

Louis’ eyes light up as he watches, “Oh, Oh!” Louis starts, clapping a little and bouncing in his spot, “I got that especially for you, cause it’s called “I’m addicted” and I’m addicted to you!”

Harry blushes, throwing his head back and laughing at how ridiculous Louis sounds, “Is that a pick up line, Tomlinson?”

Louis smirks, “I don't know Styles, did it work?” He leans across the couch, only to find that Harry is doing the same. They're both only inches from each other’s face, staring at each other with the smallest of smirks plastered over their lips, until Harry leans in and pecks Louis’ lips real fast and then bursts out laughing at Louis' shocked jump.

"Ha ha," Louis starts sarcastically, but the smile over his lips ruins it all, “C’mon then, give me the polish. M’painting your nails.”

Harry smiles happily, handing it over to Louis and sprawling his fingers over the couch cushion in between them. Louis ‘tsks’ and grabs Harry's hand, pulling the boy closer by it before letting it sprawl over his thigh.

“Can’t ruin the couch, now can we?” Louis says, raising his eyebrow.

Harry flushes, choosing to lightly squeeze Louis’ bare thigh as a response. He subtly trails his thumb under Louis’ pants, feeling how soft his upper thigh is, thinking about how good his skin tastes in the spot his thumb is pressed down on. He ignores the way Louis falters at spinning the cap off the nail polish, his breath sputtering. “Being cheeky, are we?” Louis smirks, pulling Harry's thumb back.