Larry Stylinson ao3 one shots.

too many bottles of this wine we can't pronounce

Written by:bloobeary

Summary:
Aerophobia (n): fear or strong dislike of flying
aka Louis doesn't like flying, and Harry's okay with getting his fingers crushed

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Work Text:
Harry's sitting in the slightly uncomfortable blue seat, staring at the blank screen on the back of the one in front of him, and he can already tell it's going to be a shit flight. There's a baby behind him, and it's not like he doesn't like babies, actually, quite the opposite. But this baby has not stopped crying since the boarding terminal, and it doesn't seem like it'll be stopping any time soon. Harry just sighs and looks at the empty seat next to him, praying that it'll stay open so he can be somewhat comfortable for the rough two hours of flying that are ahead of him. Admittedly, he's had longer flights, but at least on those he could get more than an uncomfortable nap that leaves his brain soggy. He opens his book in his lap and commits himself to reading while simultaneously willing the baby to fall asleep.
He groans internally when he sees a human shaped figure stop by his row, and put a bag in the overhead compartment. Harry looks up, and all of his discontent is washed away, because this has to be the most beautiful man Harry has ever set eyes on. And he's friends with several male models.
He may or may not be gaping at the man as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and drops into the seat next to Harry. "Don't you know it's a bit rude to stare, mate?" The man snaps, and Harry wants to put his tongue in his pretty little mouth already.
"S-sorry. Didn't expect there to be someone sitting here." Harry coughs, and angles his body towards the window. He hears a sigh, and feels a light touch on his forearm.
"Hey, um, I'm sorry for snapping. It's just. Airplanes make me a bit jumpy, is all." The man says softly, and Harry turns towards him again. He's literally awestruck and unable to produce words at this man, this man with the oceans for eyes and fairy bells for a voice, sitting next to him.
"No worries," Harry says lamely, and the stranger smiles, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Harry wants to kiss them until the man is giggling underneath him and blushing hard enough to see from space.
"'M Louis." He holds out a dainty hand, and Harry can see the edge of a tattoo on his wrist.
Harry smiles and shakes his hand, loving the way they fit together. "Harry."
"Nice to meet you." Louis says, and Harry smiles at him.
"So where are you headed?" Harry realizes it's a stupid question as soon as he says it. Louis, however, finds it funny. "Sorry, dumb question." Harry chuckles, and Louis just shakes his head.
"Nah, suppose I could've taken a connecting flight out of Glasgow, eh? Not so dumb." Louis pats Harry's knee, and Harry wants to disintegrate. Harry's about to say something else, when the overhead goes off, and the pilot starts his usual ramblings. So they stay silent during the safety procedures video. It's when the section on using the seat cushion as a floaty comes up, that Louis leans in to Harry's ear.
"Are you a good swimmer?" Harry blinks, and can only nod in response. "Good, then if we crash, I'm not leaving your side. Not too keen on drowning." Louis fidgets in his seat and pulls the seatbelt tighter. Harry just nods, and doesn't add that he never wants Louis to leave his side. He looks like he would fit under Harry's arm perfectly, and it's painful to think about because they literally just met and Harry really shouldn't be getting so ahead of himself. But then Louis picks at the rip in his jean around his knee, and Harry can already see himself sticking two fingers under it to rub circles onto the side of his knee. Okay.
The plane starts taxiing, and Louis hisses under his breath. Harry just passes it off as general discomfort from being in the plane, plus the fact that the baby hasn't even stopped crying yet, although it has subsided to sniffling instead of screaming. It's not until they start to pick up speed for take off, and Louis' hand is clamped around Harry's wrist that Harry realizes that something might actually be wrong.
"You alright?" Harry asks, leaning in closer to Louis to be able to hear him over the hum of the engine.
Louis nods, but his grip tightens on Harry's wrist. His bones might break. Harry doesn't mind. "Don't like flying." Louis manages, and Harry frowns.
"Do you travel a lot?" Harry manages to get Louis' hand in his, and squeezes their fingers together. At least now if his fingers break, they'll have been from holding Louis' hand. Louis nods. "You hate flying but you travel a lot?"
"Mate, not right now." Louis snaps, his eyes screwing shut, fingers tightening around Harry's. Harry just nods and drops his head back against the seat, taking the liberty to stare at Louis just a little. He definitely has the most beautiful eyelashes Harry's ever seen on a guy, coupled with cheekbones that could kill. He wonders if Louis models. And if he doesn't, he definitely should.
It takes about an hour for Louis to loosen his grip on Harry's hand, and open his eyes. "If you're gonna hum something, at least make it from a good band." Louis says, poking Harry's chest accusingly. Harry wants to say that the xx is a good band, but Louis' eyes look slightly damp, so he bites his tongue. "To answer your question from before: I love traveling. I love new places, and learning new things. The horribleness of flying is worth it. Especially when I get to hold a cute stranger's hand."
Harry nearly chokes on his own tongue at that. But he just laughs nervously, and runs his thumb over Louis'. He kind of doesn't want Louis to let go.
He doesn't. Not until they're safely on the ground again. Harry has half a mind to march over to the cockpit and kindly ask the pilot to make them airborne again, just to hold Louis' hand for a while longer. He's fairly certain the pilot would just laugh in his face.
"So, Harry from Cheshire, I'll see you around?" Louis says, pulling on his beanie and tilting his head to the side.
"You will, Louis from Doncaster." Harry winks at him before turning on his heels and walking towards the exit. He feels a little bad for leaving Louis to fend for himself in a foreign airport, but then he remembers that Louis doesn't take shit from anyone, and will be okay. Besides, his car's already sent him two reminders that it's sitting outside, so he can't exactly dawdle.
He's checked into his hotel room, and is just waiting in the lobby for the wifi to connect so he can load work emails, when he hears Louis' voice. It takes a second, because what are the odds that they'd be staying in the same hotel?
"What do you mean it won't show up?" Louis asks, leaning over the check-in desk. Harry blinks at him, and definitely does not check out his bum (except he does), and then looks back at the nearly untouched martini on the bar. He chooses Louis, dropping a few notes as a tip before grabbing his bag and walking over to him. "No, I'm positive I made it under Tomlinson."
It takes Harry a second to get the gist of the situation, so he does the only thing he can think of. "Sweetheart," He coos, wrapping his arm around Louis' waist and kissing his forehead. "I already checked us in, remember?" He raises an eyebrow at Louis.
"What the fuck are you--" Louis grumbles, but Harry kicks him in the shin and gives him a sugary smile. "Right, sorry love, completely slipped my mind. Guess I'm used to making the travel plans." Louis chuckles, putting a dainty hand on Harry's chest, and pressing against him. Harry was right earlier, he fits perfectly.
The receptionist gives them a look before typing something into the computer and handing Louis a key. "My bad, sir, I guess I just assumed you would be staying in the suite alone." She says it to Harry, and Louis just gives him a look.
Harry feels himself blush, "Now why would I do that when it's got such a large bed, hm?" Harry says before pinching Louis' hip. "Thank you!" He says it to the lady, and Louis gives her a smile before walking away, still linked together.
"You didn't have to do that." Louis squeaks once they're in the lift.
Harry just shakes his head and puts his hand in his pocket. "My room's really big anyways." He shrugs, and Louis looks up at him, cheeks red. "Think of it as a way of me thanking you for letting me hold your hand."
Louis rolls his eyes and shoves Harry's shoulder playfully. "You're an idiot. I'm paying for half of it when we leave." Louis says, but Harry's determined to not let that happen.
"Right, sure." Harry chuckles, and shoves Louis back with the force of a newborn duckling. It comes off more as him awkwardly rubbing Louis' shoulder than anything. "When are you staying till, anyways?"
The lift dings, and the doors open to a brightly lit hallway with creme walls and red carpeting. The hotel is actually very nice, and Harry plans on patting Liam on the back for this one later. Harry follows Louis out, keeping a hand on the small of his back as they walk. "I'm staying three days. Two nights, I guess technically." Louis says, and Harry makes a mental note to call the front desk and have them add a night. He should also call Liam and let him know of the change of plans.
"Mhmm," Harry hums, and they stop in front of their room. 831. Louis uses his card to open the door, and he lets out a little whistle when he steps in.
He drops his bags on the right side of the king bed sitting in the middle of the room, and makes a beeline for the balcony. The way he's standing with one leg slightly more extended than the other, and his arms poised on the balcony makes Harry wish he hadn't tucked his camera into it's own bag so he could take a picture.
He just settles on taking a mental one, and locks the door behind him. He puts his stuff on the desk by the window, and pulls out his planner to go over everything once again. The catch in the traveling was a quota of at least ten pictures every day, which isn't rigorous, but he doesn't think pictures of Louis will make the cut. Harry just sighs and sits in the rolling chair, pushing it back as far as it will go and putting his feet up on the table.
"Harry, the view is--" Louis walks in, sounding a bit breathless. "You're not wearing YSL boots." Louis says, his eyes dropping to the brown suede.
"What's wrong with 'em?" Harry asks, feeling a bit affronted. He loves his boots, thank you very much.
"Nothing," Louis mumbles, running his finger over the toe of Harry's right boot. "Just worth more than my flat, I think."
Harry just rolls his eyes and goes back to reading his schedule so neatly penciled out in Liam's handwriting. He should probably call him. But Louis' sitting on the bed with his legs sprawled haphazardly over the comforter, and Harry really wants to be between them. So he just sends him a text.
-Add a night to the glasgow hotel, please. and move the flight a day over. please.
--why?
-i have a guest
--HARRY i specifically said no hook ups
-LIAM it's not like that. just do it please.
--alright, done. x
-thank youuu xx
Harry smiles and puts his phone down before getting his legs off the desk. He knocks the ice bucket off in the process, making Louis laugh loudly. Harry mumbles for him to shut up while bending over to get it. Louis' still working off some of his giggles once Harry has taken his boots and jumper off, standing only in jeans and a thin white shirt.
"Nice nipples," Louis giggles, and Harry looks up at him. He crosses his arms over his chest and cocks a hip out.
"I've been told." Harry says back to him, and Louis just giggles before looking away. Harry still catches the blush on his cheeks though. He lets himself be proud of it.
Louis mumbles something about going to shower before grabbing his toiletries and prancing off into the bathroom. Harry just focuses on cleaning his lenses and not thinking about Louis naked. Half an hour later, Harry hears the bathroom door open, and he hopes, for the sake of his self control, that Louis is wearing clothes. Harry puts a hand over his eyes before turning around. "Is it safe to look?"
He feels a pillow his him in the chest, so he assumes that's a yes. Louis' in joggers and a shirt that looks suspiciously like one of Harry's. He sprawls back out on the bed again and Harry catches sight of a stain on the lower right portion of the shirt though, and he knows it's his. He doesn't say anything.
They order dinner two hours later, and Louis asks him about his life while picking apart lasagna. Harry tells him everything he needs to know--except his job, because he doesn't want to sound like a pretentious dickhead just yet. Harry asks Louis about his life while spearing crisp lettuce and cherry tomatoes. Louis just shrugs and says noncommittal things. Harry hopes to get more out of him soon. They split dessert, but Louis eats most of it, and Harry doesn't even complain.
Louis' yawning widely by nine, and mutters something about the time difference fucking him up. Harry doesn't mention the fact that there's no time difference between Glasgow and London, because Louis' already tucked under the fluffy covers, his eyes shut so his eyelashes cast a beautiful shadow over his face, so Harry can't really say anything.
"See you in the morning," Harry says softly, and has to sit on his hands in order to resist the urge to kiss Louis' forehead.
"Mm, yeah." Louis mumbles sleepily, and Harry has to bite his lip. He fills out spread sheets and answers emails for another hour and a half, before his eyes cannot stay open any longer. He casts Louis a look and finds him still sleeping soundly. Harry smiles and peels his jeans off, settling for sleeping in just pants, seeing as the bed is large enough for them to sleep comfortably and not touch each other. Except, Harry really wants nothing more than to be wrapped around Louis' slight frame, hand over his tummy, nose buried in caramel hair. Harry just takes a deep breath and gets under the covers.
"Can't believe I'm letting you sleep with me." Louis mumbles, and Harry snickers.
"Thought you were asleep." Harry returns, fidgeting so that he's comfortable in the cold bed.
"Your fucking computer was too bright." Louis grumbles, and Harry can picture his nose scrunching like when Harry offered him a tomato at dinner.
"Sorry, beb." Harry chuckles, letting the word slip past him.
"Night, Harold."
"Night, Lewis."
Harry wakes up to someone poking his chest excitedly. "Go'way." Harry grumbles, and rolls over onto his stomach, burrowing further into the pillow.
"Harold," Louis says insistently, and pokes the back of his neck. "You have to look at the sky right now."
That gets Harry's attention. He sits up and takes a few steps over to where his camera's sitting on the desk and stumbles out onto the balcony without even saying anything to Louis, or putting clothes on. They sky looks like the world's ending, and Harry takes about twenty five pictures of it. He takes four more when Louis steps out onto the balcony and puts his elbows on the railing, chin fitting on his palm as he looks up at the sky with wide eyes. Harry might title these, 'beautiful boy looks at beautiful sky'. He's good at originality, obviously.
Once Harry's exhausted all possible picture opportunities, he just lets the camera hand around his neck, and breathes everything in. Someone nearby is baking, or maybe it's just the hotel kitchens. Wherever it may be, there's a mouth watering smell hanging in the air. It reminds Harry of home, when he would spend hours holed up in the bakery two streets over from his house, trying to perfect a croissant. He looks down at the street, and smiles at the few people bustling around, presumably heading to work this early. It's only then when he realizes that it's fucking cold. Like, finger numbingly cold, and he's only in thin black briefs. Louis' obviously the smarter one of them, because he's wearing a jumper--it's Harry's from the day before--and a beanie. Harry just reaches out for him and pulls him into his side.
"Body heat." Harry rationalizes, and Louis doesn't say anything, just nods, snaking an arm around his waist, warm fingers pressing into Harry's goose bumped skin gently. He presses his cheek against Harry's chest, his thin stubble slightly prickly on his bare skin, and smiles. Harry tries not to imagine them doing this in their own house sometime in the future, he really does.
"Your lips are turning blue." Louis states, and Harry frowns, trying in vain to look at his own lips. Louis laughs and slaps his tummy playfully. "You look like a cross-eyed frog."
"Hey!" Harry pouts, jabbing his fingers into Louis' armpit. "Be nice to me, I'm paying for this hotel room!" Okay, not technically completely true, but it's good leverage.
Louis just giggles again and squirms away from Harry, darting back inside. Harry just sighs and rubs his hands over his arms, looking at the sky, now a slightly lighter shade of angry, again. "Are you coming back to bed, or not?" Harry shivers, and not from the cold.
"Yeah," He says eloquently, and walks back inside, sliding the door shut behind him. He pulls the curtains shut for good measure, too. Louis' already tucked back into the folds of the sheets, and Harry can't help but smile. He has two hours until he's supposed to be out in the field 'exploring' or what not. He reckons he has enough time to draw a cuddle out of Louis. He sets his camera aside and crawls back into the bed, this time lying next to Louis.
"Mate, you've got the whole bed and you choose right here?" Louis grumbles, and Harry just turns to wrap his arms around Louis' waist, pulling him in tight.
"I'm cold." Harry says, and Louis doesn't protest, just huffs. He settles into Harry's body all the same, even reaching back to slide his hand into Harry's hair gently. Harry purrs, and Louis giggles. Harry's toes have already begun to regain feeling. He could get used to this.
Louis wakes up with a note stuck to his forehead.
went out, should be back around 6. tea's on the stove -H x
Louis hadn't even realized that there was a kitchenette in the room, but he gets up to look for it anyways. And surely, there it is, tea kettle and all. Harry even set aside three different types of tea for him. Louis catches himself smiling with a hand over his heart, but he shakes it off and chooses a baggie. Part of him wants to laze around in Harry's jumper all day and wait for him to come back, but then he remembers that he's in Scotland, for pete's sake. So he finishes his tea and pulls on some jeans, choosing to leave Harry's sweater on, and grabs his stuff before walking out to seize the day.
Harry's typing rapidly on his laptop, headphones on, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he glares at the screen when Louis walks in. Harry doesn't notice, not at first, because he's been trying to get the exposure to balance on 13 and never has it been so hard to get it onto an odd number. It doesn't help that Liam's chattering away over his headphones, rattling off some news about scheduling shoots when Harry's back in England.
"Mate, shut up for a sec." Harry mumbles, and static greets him from the other side.
"Excuse me?" Louis says, and Harry whips around to face him. He's standing in front of the bed with his arms crossed and a confused look on his face. And he's still in Harry's jumper. God.
"Shit, not you." Harry curses, and drops the headphones down around his neck. "I'm on a call. Sorry, Lou."
Louis blinks in realization, and nods. "Right." He turns on his heels and disappears around a corner that a hotel room really shouldn't even have. Harry just sighs and goes back to fixing his pictures and listening to Liam talk.
It's five minutes later, and there's a mug of tea sitting next to Harry's right hand. That's when he decides to call it a day, saying goodbye to Liam and saving his work on photoshop. The exposure looks good on twelve, too. He closes his laptop with a snap and takes a sip of the tea.
"How was your day?" Harry asks, swiveling to face Louis.
"Went to a museum. Walked around. Had some food, the works." Louis says, waving his hand and drinking out of his cup.
Harry clears his throat. "Are you planning on stealing my clothes for the rest of our stay?" Harry blows on his tea before drinking it.
"Wanker." Louis grumbles, and sets his mug down before sitting up and pulling Harry's sweater over his head, making his shirt ride up with it. Harry frowns. "Happy now?" He says after tossing it over onto Harry's side of the bed, the beige fabric in sharp contrast to the white of the bed.
"No, I didn't mean..." Harry sighs and sets his teacup down. He pushes his jumper aside and crawls onto the bed so that he's up close next to Louis. "It looked good on you. I was kidding. Steal all my clothes." Harry decides it's okay to wraps his arms around Louis' waist and nuzzle into his neck.
Louis laughs, and puts his free hand on the back of Harry's neck. "I'll remember that." Harry would be happy lying like this for the rest of his life. "What about your day?"
Harry just shrugs. "Took pictures. Walked a lot." Harry mutters, not feeling up to disclosing the three hours of editing and writing that he'd just done.
"Is that what you do? Take pictures?"
"Yeah," It's not a lie. "Something like that."
He feels Louis sigh more than he hears him. "For whom?"
Well, Louis isn't letting him free of this one. Harry rolls over onto his back. "Depends on who wants me. Sometimes modeling agencies, sometimes freelance stuff. Right now it's a traveling magazine. So it's technically more like photo journalism."
"Do you have to write too?" Louis asks, turning onto his side and leaning on his elbow.
"Yeah, for now." Harry nods and links his hands under his head. "It's pretty chill, my best mate's my agent of sorts, so it's cool." And he also makes a disgusting amount of money from having shares in Canon, but that's besides the point.
"That's sick." Louis says, poking at Harry's cheek. Harry just blinks at him.
"I'm gonna shower." Harry announces, and gathers his stuff. He does not get off while thinking about Louis' lips, nope, he does not.
Louis' in just sweats when Harry walks back out, towel clinging precariously low on his hips. Louis very noticeably gives him a once over before going back to reading whatever it is he had been reading. Harry smirks and goes to find something to wear. He settles on loose trackies and a black shirt, since he's just going to lay in bed for the rest of the night. It doesn't hit him that this may very well be the last night he ever has with Louis.
Harry goes straight for Louis once he's on the bed again, throwing a leg over his and pulling him in to his chest. "Hi," Louis giggles, turning so that they're back to chest.
"Hi." Harry muses, nosing at Louis' hair. He could die happy like this, he thinks. "Did you eat?"
"Yeah," Louis mutters, his eyes already drooping shut. Harry just nods and lets himself succumb to the tiredness seeping through his bones. He had quite a busy day.
"Harry?" Louis asks quietly, and Harry hums in response. "I'm glad you held my hand on the plane."
"Me too," Harry mumbles, and just pulls Louis closer.
It's Harry's turn to wake up with something stuck to his forehead. But instead of it being a note, it's a printed out ticket to Stockholm departing a week from that day. Harry smiles and peels off the sticky note at the bottom.
thanks for the room. hold my hand again? -L xx
Harry rolls over onto his stomach and squeals into his pillow, and he can't even feel embarrassed about it.
-
Harry's sitting at gate 10, the reminder to board having just went off for the second time, and Louis is nowhere to be found. Harry sighs when he hears the attendant speak again, and goes to stand in line. He's third from the booth close to having lost all hope, but then there's a tug on his curls.
"You fucking wanker." Harry snaps, knowing the hand on his hip without even having to look.
"Sorry, love. Traffic." Louis says, waving his hand and giving Harry an apologetic smile. "I also couldn't find my wallet for a solid twenty minutes."
Harry sighs and doesn't have the self control to stop himself from kissing Louis' forehead. "Maybe I should just pack for you."
"Maybe," Louis replies, sounding a little dreamy. They take another step forwards.
"You could've at least answered my texts, you dick." Harry whines, bumping his hip against Louis'. Louis just presses his fingers through Harry's belt loop, and Harry counts it as an apology. Louis holds Harry's hand before they even get to their seats, and doesn't let go until they're in their hotel room three and a half hours later.
"Got any pictures to take this time, Hazza?" Louis asks, pulling his knees up to his chest on the bed. It's smaller than their last one was (not that the lack of space is of any sort of problem for Harry), and this time they're actually splitting the cost.
Harry shakes his head, but still takes out his camera to take a picture of Louis anyways. "Since it's the weekend, I'm taking it as personal time." Louis blushes, and Harry wants to kiss him so bad it hurts.
"Now you're forced to spend time with me." Louis jokes, sticking his tongue out at Harry, which doesn't help the kissing situation at all.
"Trust me, babe, I'm doing it willingly." Harry winks at him, and Louis just throws a pillow in his general direction. It hits him in the knee. "Now come on, let's go get lunch."
Fact: Louis is absolutely, painfully beautiful.
Another fact: Harry might be falling for him a little too fast.
They walk around the palaces and museums, taking pictures like the right tourists they are. Louis buys Harry a drink with some unpronounceable name, and he himself just settles for some whiskey. Louis holds his hand while they walk, breaking apart every so often to point at something, or take a picture on his phone. Harry really regrets leaving his camera in the hotel room, but he can conform to iPhone quality--for now. They end up having dinner out too, sitting in a tiny booth with their feet tangled together.
They're only staying one night, from Friday to Saturday, and then they leave that night, so Harry's determined to make this night count. The flight gets in to London at eleven, and Harry has thought about just whisking Louis away to his own flat and having one more night with him. Not that he doesn't like holding Louis' hand, he loves it, actually. But something about holding his whole body is just, better.
"Why Stockholm?" Harry asks when they're both under the crisp white covers. Louis' leg is over Harry's hips and Harry's hand is dangerously low on his back; his fingers are brushing the hem of Louis' sweats, and it's so hard not to go lower. But Harry contains himself, he does.
Louis hums and runs his index finger over Harry's collarbone absently. "You know the song? Stockholm Syndrome?" Harry nods. "Well, it was stuck in my head. So Stockholm."
Harry smiles, and looks down at Louis. "Baby look what you've done to me." Harry starts singing, and Louis turns bright red. "Baby look what you've done now."
"Shut up." Louis groans, trying in vain to cover Harry's mouth.
"Baby I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way." Harry pins Louis' hand to his chest.
"Harry," Louis groans, abandoning the effort of covering his mouth by plainly sitting on his stomach and pressing his shoulders into the bed.
Harry laughs and skips ahead. "I know they'll be coming to find me soon, but my Stockholm syndrome is in your room. Yeah I fell for you." It's a bit harder to sing with Louis on his diaphragm, but he makes it work. "Baby look what you've done to me, baby look what you've done now."
"You're such an idiot." Louis says, finally clamping his hands over Harry's mouth firmly.
Harry smiles with Louis' hands over his mouth, and grabs Louis' wrists, running his thumbs over his veins gently. They stay like that for a second before Harry is the one pinning Louis down. He presses his wrists into the mattress roughly, leaning in close so that their noses bump slightly.
"Baby I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way," Louis whisper-sings, his eyes trained into Harry's, blue washing green.
Harry bites his lip, and thinks. He's close enough to kiss Louis, and every bone in his body wants to, but there's something that gets in the way. So he just bites the tip of his nose and rolls off him instead. "You have a nice voice," Harry says after a few seconds of silence.
Louis scoffs and turns onto his side to look at Harry. "Coming from you." Harry just rolls his yes. "Seriously. You sound better than the guy on the track." Louis reaches out and tucks a curl back into place. He leaves his fingers twirled in Harry's hair.
Harry looks and Louis, and Louis looks at Harry. "Are you trying to charm my pants off, Tomlinson?" Harry asks, finally, a smile already playing on his lips. Louis just laughs and shrugs, pulling on Harry's hair sharply.
"Don't be cheeky or I might not let you spoon me to death tonight." Louis returns, sticking his tongue out at Harry, who gasps in mock astonishment, a hand going to his chest in offense. Louis just rolls his eyes and presses himself closer to Harry, who's hand goes to his hip immediately.
"Where do you wanna go next?" Harry whispers, feeling like talking at a normal volume would ruin the closeness of the moment.
Louis blinks at him. "I've been wanting to go to Greece." His voice is soft, and Harry can feel himself melting into the bed.
"It's beautiful there." Harry thinks about the stark white houses lined up along the coast with the turquoise water lapping the cliffs gently, he thinks about Louis standing on a balcony in a cotton robe watching the sunrise, he thinks about kissing him in the sand.
"Does that mean you won't come with me?" Louis asks, his eyes wide and crystal blue.
Harry smiles and presses his forehead against Louis'. "No. Of course I will." Louis sighs a breath of relief and Harry feels his hand on his chest. "Just tell me when."
"When are you free?"
Harry thinks for a second. "In two weeks and a half."
"Right." Louis says simply, and turns over so that Harry's lips are brushing his hair lightly. "Spoon me to death, please." Harry can definitely do that.
-
It's two days before they're supposed to go to Greece when Louis shows up at Harry's flat. It's very out of the blue given the fact that Harry hadn't even really exactly told Louis where he lives, so Harry doesn't bother putting on a shirt before going to open the door in just rolled down sweats. "Louis." Harry says, his eyes widening.
"Hi," Louis says, looking Harry over before smiling up at him. "Can I come in?"
"Y-yeah, yeah." Harry says, shaking his head and stepping aside for Louis to walk in past him. "Why are you here?" Harry blurts out, and he hopes it didn't come off as rude. It's just eleven on a thursday, and Harry was already in his bed.
Louis shrugs, and turns to look at Harry. "Don't make fun of me." Louis breathes, his shoulders slumping. It's then that Harry realizes that Louis' in pajama pants and a large hoodie. He shakes his head and walks up to Louis, grabbing his hands in his own. "Couldn't sleep." Louis says finally, with a shrug.
Harry smiles wide and pulls Louis into his chest. "My bed's too big anyways."
He feels Louis' hands press into his shoulders, and his breath against his bare chest. "How did you even get here, love?" Harry asks, pulling away from him a little to look down at him. He looks tired, and not in the 'I-can't-sleep' sort of way, but in the 'I've-had-a-lot-on-my-mind-and-it-won't-shut-up' sort of way.
Louis just shrugs. "Went for a walk. Found myself here. Saw your name on the directory thingie and slipped in past someone else who walked in." Louis mumbles, resting his cheek against Harry's collarbones and closing his eyes. "S'that alright?"
"Yeah," Harry says in a heartbeat, smiling into Louis' hair. "It's great."
So Louis crawls into Harry's bed after pulling his hoodie off and throwing onto the ground, and falls asleep almost as soon as Harry's arms are around him. It takes Harry a while longer to fall asleep, because he's gauging the amount of time you have to know someone before kissing them becomes okay. It's also kind of hard to get his brain to shut up when the world's most beautiful boy is in his arms.
They come back from Crete tanned and closer than ever, having had to sleep in the same bed for three days. Not that either complained, but it got too hot in the room for covers, or clothes. So sleeping in underwear happened, and Harry has never had to bite the inside of his cheek harder for an ounce of self control.Harry has the image of Louis holding a beer with just his mouth while getting into a boat burned into the insides of his eyelids. Louis didn't even complain when Harry stole his aviators, and didn't give them back.
-
The next two months are relatively travel-free for Harry, the last issue of the travel magazine he's been writing for having been sent out for publishing. Liam's booked him several jobs though, like photographing for Chanel and the well known YSL that he so proudly sports on his feet ("They asked for the lad who took the pictures of the cute boy in Adidas for that magazine, and I was like hey, that's my lad." As Liam had put it). Louis in the mean time went to France and Ireland for a few days. Harry got some wonderful pouty selfies from the plane as a result.
Harry's munching on an apple slice in the break room of the studio when his phone rings. "Hello," Harry answers, smiling at the name across his screen.
"Meet me for lunch?" Louis asks, and Harry feels himself smile wider.
"When'd you get back?" Harry ignores his first question, though they both know the answer is already yes.
"Four hours ago." Louis responds. "I'll see you in ten?" Harry feels his phone vibrate, and knows that there's an address sitting in a grey bubble in his messages app.
"Of course, babe. See ya." Harry says, hanging up with a smile and going to grab his wallet. He says something to Liam about breaking for lunch even though they're almost done with shooting, and hurries out the side door. It's six minutes on foot to the café Louis wants to meet at, and Harry is not one to be late.
He gets there before Louis does, and holds down the booth farthest away from the entrance. He likes being able to listen to Louis talk without having to tune out other people, so what. And Louis knows that, so three minutes later, he's sliding in to the side opposite Harry and hooking his foot around Harry's ankle.
"Hi," Louis says with a smile, and Harry feels like he's been slapped, not hard, but just enough to catch his attention. He stares for a little, because Louis' hair is longer now, just barely curling around his neck and flopping over his eyes, which look bright and the bags underneath them have all but gone.
"You look good." Harry says before he can even think about it, and Louis blushes. "How was it?"
"Good," Louis says, looking back up at Harry and pulling out his phone. "It's always good to see the girls. And the twins are absolutely adorable." Louis nearly purrs as he goes through his pictures, finally finding the one he wants. He lays the phone down flat on the table and Harry sighs at the picture of Louis holding his baby siblings.
He tries to think of a non creepy way of asking for the pictures. "Send me those?" Harry abandons caution, hoping it'll come across the way he wants them to rather than in a weird way. Louis just smiles and gets to it, and in seconds Harry feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket.
They make small talk and order their food, and it's then that Harry realizes how much he actually enjoys Louis. He loves the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he laughs, and how he has to flick his hair off his face every so often, and his wide he smiles when he laughs. Harry finds himself staring a lot.
"Harry." Louis says, and Harry blinks, coming out of his train of thought. Louis giggles and kicks his shin lightly. "I asked you when you were going to be done with your shoots."
"Oh!" Harry says, eyes widening a bit as he thinks about it. "Last one is tomorrow. And then I have one more next tuesday but then I should be free." Harry says, and reaches over to run his finger along the back of Louis' hand. They're both quiet for a second there. "Why?"
Louis coughs, and looks up from his wrist, where Harry's tracing his tattoo. "How do you feel about India?"
-
Louis holds Harry's hand for eight and a half hours straight, and Harry doesn't even complain when his fingers start to get numb.
"I'm telling you, Lewis, if you keep buying me plane tickets then I'm going to keep paying for the hotels. Simple as that." Harry says, sliding the room key through the lock and pushing the door to their room open. Louis starts to protest, but then Harry clamps a hand over his mouth and looks at him intently. "I want to, okay?"
Louis just nods, and Harry smiles, taking his hand away and walking to the bed. "It's just you always choose the biggest rooms, I swear, Harold." Louis bickers, and Harry rolls his eyes.
"Fine, I'll choose the tiny hotel next time. The one that doesn't have hot water or clean sheets." Harry grumbles and drops his bags on the floor at the edge of the bed. He takes his shoes and jeans off, flinging them in whichever way they might go and crawling onto the bed.
"No need to be so cranky." Louis snaps back, "I'm just saying that--"
"Shut up and get in bed." Harry groans, and effectively, there are no more words before Louis is pressed against him.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to woo me, Styles." Louis mumbles, and Harry smiles into his neck.
"Don't know better." Harry whispers and presses a soft kiss against the side of Louis' neck before closing his eyes and pulling Louis closer.
They sleep for six hours, and Louis blames it on the jet lag. He showers first, and then Harry goes in before they seize the last hours of sunlight in the city around their hotel. Harry buys a woven throw and they take it down to the beachside of their hotel, and sit next to each other with their toes in the sand and shoulders pressed together, watching the sun set.
"Lou?" Harry asks, and Louis hums his response. "Why do you travel so much?" Harry turns to look down at Louis, and in the second it takes him to answer, Harry has already jumped to conclusions. "Shit, don't tell me you're like, dying or something because I don't think I--"
"Harry," Louis says, shoving his hip sharply. "I'm not dying, you oaf." Louis rolls his eyes, and Harry exhales. "Did I ever tell you that I'm kind of part of a record label?" Harry just blinks, because no, that was not mentioned. "Well, I am. Joint owner, or whatever. I'm technically supposed to be scouting, but honestly, I just like going places. And it's not like they're going to question the owner, so.
"Have you found anyone then?" Harry asks, finding Louis' hand and lacing their fingers together.
Louis nods and shifts so that he's leaning more against Harry's chest. "Found a kid in Ireland. He was playing on some steps and I kind of told him to send me a demo soon." Louis shrugs. "He was good. Really good."
Harry smiles and feels his chest swell with pride. Something about Louis walking around in his scuffed up Vans and too big hoodies, discovering new talent brings Harry an immense amount of joy. "That's wonderful." Louis looks up at him. "You're wonderful."
Louis blushes and looks down again. "Shut up. Let's go eat."
The hotel restaurant is a kaleidoscope of scarlet and orange fabric seamed with gold hanging from the ceiling, and a mouthwatering smell of curry and fresh naan. Harry and Louis get sat down in a circular booth, with the seat going all the way around except for the opening which they walked through, so they sit somewhat across from each other.
Harry's already slurring when he waves the waiter over. "Another bottle of the--shit, the one with the name that starts with the L." Harry furrows his brow and stares at the empty bottle of wine on the table. Louis watches with a smile and picks apart a piece of naan. "That one." Harry points at the bottle, and the waiter nods before walking away.
"Sure we should go for another one?" Louis asks, grabbing his half-full glass and taking a sip of the almost too-sweet wine. Harry's glass is empty, and he's done most of the drinking.
"Yeah," Harry says, blinking slowly and nodding. "I'm great."
Louis chuckles and puts his chin on his knuckles, and just stares. Harry's hair is flowing down over his shoulders and his shirt is unbuttoned down to his chest, so Louis can see his pecs. "Oi, stop staring at my tits." Harry says, his hands flying to cover his chest. Louis feels himself blush, and then Harry starts giggling uncontrollably.
"Your wine, sir." The waiter says, setting the new bottle in a bucket of ice and taking away the old one.
"Thank youuu," Harry says in a sing-song tone, and tries (unsuccessfully) to pour himself more, the dark liquid splashing onto the amber tablecloth. "Whoopsies." Harry giggles, and finally manages to pour correctly.
The food and wine is long gone, but they're still sitting at the table. Harry orders a third bottle, and he's taken to just holding it between his knees now. He knocks over a thankfully unlit candle, and that's when Louis calls it. "You're drunk." He says softly, and rights the candle back on its stand.
Harry makes a noise, and widens his eyes. "I am not drunk, you're drunk." Harry slurs, and blinks quickly. "Maybe I'm a little drunk. You're pretty."
Louis laughs, and waves the waiter over for the check. "You're definitely drunk."
Harry sighs and Louis watches as he gets up on all fours on the seat and crawls over to Louis with the wine still in one hand. He sits next to Louis, practically on top of him, and places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "But really," Harry sighs, and sets the bottle on the table. "Very pretty." Harry noses at Louis' jaw and places his hand over Louis' thigh, pressing his thumb into his jeans.
Louis laughs nervously, and feels something flare up in his chest, something like fireworks with the sparks coursing through each of his individual blood vessels and capillaries, so that his whole body ignites. The bill finally arrives, and Louis just writes their room number in an attempt to get Harry into a bed before he passes out and Louis has to find a way to carry his huge body to their room. "C'mon, babe." Louis mumbles, and stands up, finding Harry's hand and pulling him up.
"Hey!" Harry says excitedly, pointing at the bottle. "1975! Like the band!" Harry giggles, and Louis just smiles, wrapping a protective arm around his waist as they stand for a second. They take three steps, and Harry's singing. "Said use your hands and my spare time, got one thing in common: this tongue of mine!" Louis recognizes the song, and blood rushes to his cheeks. He shushes Harry, and puts a hand over his mouth while they walk. The lift doors close, and Louis drops his hand. "All we seem to do is talk about, sex!." Harry sings, and Louis bites his lip.
"Harry," Louis cautions, and Harry laughs, leaning against Louis even more, so that his lips are in Louis' hair. It's then that Louis discovers that Harry's handsy when he's drunk, because his hand is in the back pocket of Louis' jeans, and the other one is against his chest. Louis can feel his own fingers tingling from the half a bottle of wine he consumed, so he can't bring himself to push Harry off him. He should be thinking more of getting to their room instead of Harry's giant hands, but honestly, the touch feels good. "You need a shower, and some water."
Harry shakes his head. "Need you." His voice is unexpectedly low and husky, and Louis has to take a deep breath. "You're better than anything else." Louis can feel his pulse spiking, and he's sure Harry can hear his heart from where he's standing. Louis fumbles for the room card, letting them both in. Louis makes a little squeak when he finds himself pinned against the door, Harry's face an inch away from his own.
"I don't wanna be your friend," Harry sings softly, leaning forwards so that their lips are barely brushing. "I wanna kiss your neck." He whispers, and Louis whimpers pitifully, sliding his hand into Harry's hair. There's another second, and then Harry's pressing his lips against Louis'.
It's cliché, but it feels like Louis' whole body is on fire when their lips touch. Harry moans softly and presses Louis against the door further, so that their chests are nearly glued together. Louis gives a little tug on Harry's curls, and Harry runs his tongue along Louis' lips, sliding it past once he lets him. Harry feels like he's going to pass out then, because he's wanted to kiss Louis since he set eyes on him on the plane, and the fact that it's happening is just a bit much. Harry pulls away to take a breath, and then kisses along Louis' jaw and down his neck, sinking his teeth into his collarbone softly.
"Harry," Louis sighs, his back arching off the door. Harry snakes an arm around Louis' waist and pulls him flush against his own hips, whining a bit at the contact. Louis says his name again, and Harry shivers. He runs a hand under Louis' leg, and lifts it up around his hips. Louis gets it, and does the same with his other leg, and crosses his ankles so he's being held up by the door and Harry's arms.
"Bed," Harry pants, and kisses Louis again before carrying him to the bed, miraculously not tripping. Harry presses Louis' wrists into the bed firmly, and leans down to kiss him softly. "Want you so bad, baby." Harry slurs, and Louis whines. He wants it too, so bad it physically hurts. But Harry is drunk, and Louis doesn't want it to happen like this.
"Haz," Louis says breathlessly, managing to pull a hand free and put it on Harry's chest. Harry hums and nips at the underside of Louis' jaw. "No."
Harry pulls away immediately, and blinks at him. It takes a second to register, and then he frowns. "What?" Harry asks, hiccuping halfway through it.
Louis sighs and puts his hand on Harry's cheek, running a thumb over his cheekbone sweetly. "Not like this."
Harry just nods, and flops on the bed next to him. "So you don't like me back?" Harry says wetly, and Louis wants to cry.
"I do. I do, Harry, a lot." Louis says quickly, sitting up and looking down at Harry's frowning face. Still cute, though. "I just--don't want it to happen like this. Because you're drunk, and..." Louis falters, and shakes his head.
"And what?" Harry asks, moving to put his head on Louis' leg.
Louis takes a deep breath. "And I don't want you to forget. About me." Louis whispers, and Harry just blinks.
"Don't think I could." Harry mumbles, and there's a pause in which everything they've ever needed to say to each other is said just by meeting gazes. "Excuse me." Harry hiccups, and flounders a bit in trying to get off the bed and make it to the bathroom. The door barely closes, and Harry's puking. Louis sighs and rubs his eyes before getting Harry a glass of water, and kneeling next to him to hold his hair back and rub his shoulders soothingly. "Maybe too many wine." Harry mumbles pitifully, resting his cheek against the toilet seat.
"S'alright, love." Louis says, smiling sympathetically and kissing Harry's shoulder. Harry sleeps against the toilet for a few hours, and Louis sleeps with his head on Harry's thighs. They make it back to the bed, and Louis takes Harry's shoes off for him before falling asleep.
Harry wakes up and immediately wishes he hadn't, because it feels like someone is stepping on his head with sharpened cleats. "Son of a fuck." Harry groans incoherently, and tries to roll over onto his stomach, only to find himself rolling onto Louis. "Shit," Harry curses, and finally opens his eyes.
"Good morning, sunshine." Louis chuckles, and runs his fingers through Harry's hair.
"Shut up," Harry groans, and nuzzles into the pillow, as if it'll make him feel better.
"Don't be rude," Louis chastises, "Might not let you kiss me again." That's what it takes for Harry to remember the events of the night before. His fingertips go a bit numb when he thinks about kissing Louis.
"I'm sorry." Harry apologizes, not wanting to take the chance. "I just feel like shit."
"Too many wine." Louis quotes, and Harry blushes, remembering his own incoherence. "Go jump in the shower."
Harry smiles and ghosts his fingers over Louis' arm, brushing the tip of the heart inked onto his shoulder. "Come with me?"
Louis chuckles. "I'm going to get breakfast. Go shower, you'll feel better." And with that, Louis gets out of bed. Harry watches as he grabs a shirt from Harry's bag and pulls it on before bending over and shimmying his jeans on. "Seriously, Haz, you better have showered once I get back, or else I really won't let you fuck me."
Harry has to shower sitting down, but he showers all the same. Louis gets back a few minutes before Harry's out, and presents him with breakfast consisting of a muffin, and a styrofoam cup filled with fruit.
"There wasn't really much more, considering it's nearing lunch time." Louis explains, and takes a sip of his tea. Harry just shakes his head and breaks off a piece of the muffin.
"You're an angel. Thank you, baby." Louis preens at the pet name, and smiles at Harry, moving from the chair onto his lap. Harry's hand immediately goes to Louis' thigh.
"When you're finished, we're gonna go out and seize what's left of the day." Louis declares, and Harry whines, but doesn't say anything in protest. If Louis wants to play the teasing game, Harry can too. So Harry keeps his hand in the back of Louis' jeans while they walk around town, and makes the hyperconscious effort to stand behind him with his arms around his hips, so that they're pressed together. It's effect on Louis is noticeable from the sudden pinkness of his cheeks, and the fact that he keeps pulling at his jeans.
Harry peaks while they're eating lunch at a restaurant close to their hotel, sitting next to Louis and practically pulling him into his lap. "Harry," Louis warns, but it comes out more like a sigh than anything else.
Harry hums against his temple, and wraps his hand around Louis' thigh. His other hand is behind Louis' back, tucked between the both of them, and running his fingers over the hem of Louis' jeans. "You are so beautiful," Harry whispers, his lips brushing the shell of Louis' ear. "So delicate and perfect for me," Louis can hear his own heartbeat when Harry tucks his fingers under the elastic of Louis' pants finally. "Been waiting so long to tell you that."
Louis has to bite his lip to stop from whining, and looks around frantically. No one is paying close attention to them, and they have already paid for their food, so it wouldn't be weird if they just stood up and left. Except for the fact that their food is sitting nearly untouched on the table. Louis' not hungry for that, though.
"Can't you tell how bad I want you?" Harry breathes, pressing a kiss to Louis' temple.
"We're going." Louis squeaks, and stands up, making Harry pulls his hand away from the back of his jeans, and stand up too. It's a brisk walk to the hotel, and Louis thinks that if he moves fast enough, no one will be able to notice the semi he's sporting. They make it back to their room in what has to be record time, and Harry's got Louis pinned to the bed within seconds.
"Finally," Harry sighs, and leans forwards to kiss Louis fully. Louis feels like there's liquid gold flowing into his veins and through his body via where Harry's touching him, and it's making him a bit dizzy. Because this is Harry kissing him, Harry wanting him.
"H--" Louis starts, but he gets stuck when Harry sucks on the underside of his jaw, undoubtedly leaving a bruise. Louis closes his eyes while Harry kisses down his neck and chest, pulling away to take Louis' shirt off. Louis' eyes fly open at the sudden exposure when Harry kisses his stomach softly.
"Louis," Harry breathes, looking up at him with wide eyes swimming with something Louis parallels.
"Harry." Louis whispers, and they just look at each other for a little. Louis wants to be kissed again, and maybe he says it out loud, because Harry's lips are on his, tasting of cherries. Louis just sighs softly and pulls on Harry's curls enough to make him feel it, but not enough to make him pull away. Louis moans into Harry's mouth when he feels his tongue against his own, and in an involuntary movement, finds their hips slotted together in the best way. "Oh-" Louis moans when Harry rolls his hips against Louis.
It's suddenly infuriating how much clothing Harry's wearing, and Louis makes a point of it by pulling at the low neckline of his shirt. "Off, take it off." Louis nearly begs, and Harry chuckles, sitting up to pull his shirt off his head. Louis' eyes burn when he sees Harry's body, because he is so beautiful, and everything Louis' not. "Wow," Louis breathes, and reaches out tentatively, splaying his fingers over Harry's toned stomach, fingertips brushing wings.
Harry just rolls his eyes and moves to kiss Louis again, but Louis keeps him sitting up. "What's wrong, love?" Harry asks, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. Louis sighs, and wonders how the hell a person can be so cute and so sexy all at once. Louis sits up, and tries to think about what he wants to say. But it's hard, because Harry is so, so--everything--and Louis is just Louis.
"I'm not, um. You're--" Louis starts, and just ends up sighing. "You are too good for me, Styles." Louis manages, keeping his eyes trained on the tussled sheets instead of Harry.
"I reject that preposterous statement out of hand." Harry huffs, and tilts Louis' chin up. Louis feels his eyes starting to get a little watery, and this is definitely not the way he was expecting this to happen.
"Harry," Louis sighs, and Harry kisses his forehead. "Everything about you is so wonderful, and I'm just me. Nothing special to me."
"That's not true." Harry says immediately, and wraps his arms around Louis' shoulders, pressing him against his chest. Louis closes his eyes, and lets himself breathe in the familiar smell of Harry. "You change lives, you know that? That kid you found playing on the steps is probably so excited right now, and it's because of you. If anything, you're too good for me. All I do is take pictures."
"I love you," Louis blurts it out before he can stop himself and he wants to drown in the silence that follows. "No I don't. I didn't say that. You didn't hear that." Louis stutters desperately.
Harry laughs, and grabs Louis' face in his hands, looking into his eyes with nothing but love. "I love you, too. Idiot." Harry says, and leans in to kiss Louis softly. This could potentially be the best day of Louis' life.
"Yeah, but I'm your idiot." Louis gushes, and Harry just kisses him harder.
"Yeah," Harry breathes, and pulls Louis closer so that his thighs are bracketing Harry's hips. "And I'm a fool for you." Louis wants to die, a little, but in a good way.
Louis gives him a quiet smile, and kisses Harry. It gets dirty fast, a mess of teeth and tongue, and frantic hands. "Take your fucking jeans off," Harry growls, his fingers already working on Louis' zipper. Louis just nods and sits up to let Harry push his jeans down to his knees, and takes them off the rest of the way himself. Harry gets out of his jeans as well, and pulls Louis back onto his lap, hands clutching his hips like vices.
Louis settles over Harry's lap, and he can feel Harry's cock pressing into his thigh. They both moan once Louis ruts against Harry, and Harry's hands move from his hips to his bum. "You look so good like this, baby." Harry moans, hands squeezing through cotton. "Feel so close. Think you can take it like this?" Harry asks, mouthing over Louis' collarbones.
"I d-don't know." Louis stutters, honestly, and Harry gives him a confused look. "I, um, haven't. In a while." Louis feels his hands starting to sweat.
"How long?"
"Since I met you." It's barely a whisper, and then Louis' pinned down to the bed again.
"Why's that?" Harry kisses Louis' collarbone. He asks because Louis could get anyone he wanted, and he just wants to hear him say it. Louis whimpers softly, and Harry presses his wrists down harder and moves to bite his nipple. Louis yelps and bucks his hips involuntarily, so Harry drops his to keep Louis still.
"Be-cause," Louis pants, shivering as Harry mouths at his other nipple. "I h-haven't been able to t-think about anyone else." Harry moans at the thought of Louis thinking about him for even a second, and bites Louis' nipple.
"Tell me." Harry demands, letting go of Louis' wrists to pull his pants down, kissing his hips. Louis' cock is hard against his hip, the head already holding a bead of precome. Harry wants to touch, but he also wants to make Louis come without it, so he doesn't.
"Shit, think about your h-hands all the time." Louis moans, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels Harry spreading his legs apart. "Fucking huge hands." Harry laughs against Louis' thigh, and presses a kiss against his soft skin. Louis knows that the little bites Harry's leaving are going to stay for a few days. "I bruise easily." Louis says suddenly, and Harry raises his eyebrows. "I mean, they stay." Louis clarifies, and Harry responds by sucking a bruise on Louis' inner thigh.
"One day, soon," Harry says between kisses, "I'm going to make you come just from doing this." He bites down, and Louis nearly screams. He doesn't say that it could very well happen at the moment. Louis' eyes are closed, but he can still feel them starting to get a bit watery from the way Harry's touching him, everywhere, and nowhere, all at once. He whines when Harry's suddenly gone, and finds him going through his suitcase. He comes back holding lube and a condom, and sets them down on the bed.
Louis can't even find it in himself to make a comment about him having those on him, because Harry's twisting his hips so that he's on his side with a leg across his waist. And then everything in Louis' head disappears and is replaced with a haze of pink when Harry grabs his ass with one hand, and uses the other to rub around his rim lazily. Louis whines, and casts Harry a pleading look. "What, darling?" Harry asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Louis just groans, and fidgets, closing around nothing. "Words, baby."
"Hands," Louis moans, "Do something, please." He begs, and hears the cap of the lube flick open. He sighs in relief and waits. Harry sucks a hickey onto Louis' ass cheek, and slips one finger in.
"Fuck, Lou, you're so tight." Harry groans, and works his finger slowly until Louis opens his eyes and asks for another. Harry slides another finger in, scissoring them apart gently, making Louis sigh and whine highly.
"Magic," Louis slurs, and Harry assumes he's referring to his hands. Harry just smiles and chooses an unmarked portion of skin to suck on. "More," Louis pants, pushing back against Harry's hand frantically. He gets to three, and Louis' gone lax under him. Harry curls his fingers in, and Louis yelps. "There, there, oh, yeah, fuck." Louis moans, and Harry presses circles against his prostate until Louis' sweaty, and begging. "H-harry, fuck me."
Harry can't really argue with that, so he twists his fingers one more time before pulling them out and wiping his hand on the bed. He goes to take his briefs off, but Louis beats him to it, already having moved to his knees. "Oh," Louis squeaks once Harry's completely stripped, and his cock is free. Louis doesn't want to be stupid, and say something like 'wow', so he just bites his lip and runs his fingers over the underside of Harry's cock lightly, his hand feeling especially dainty in comparison. Harry shivers a little when Louis wraps his hand around his cock and tugs slowly. "Wanna suck you off," Louis hums, and drops down to swipe his tongue across the head. Harry whimpers, and grabs a fistful of Louis' hair, and pulls.
"Lou," Harry breathes, and Louis gives him a look through his eyelashes, his lips stretched and bright red. Harry's breath catches in his throat, and he grabs the back of Louis' neck to pull him up for a kiss. "Love your mouth, but not now." Harry sighs, and wraps an arm around Louis' waist, pulling him close.
"Fine," Louis resigns, and pushes Harry down onto his back. "But I'm blowing you tomorrow." He says it simply, and in a second, Louis' straddling Harry's hips again. Harry just nods and sits up, keeping an arm around Louis, and leaning on the other one. Louis reaches over for the lube and drizzles some over his fingers, moving his hand behind him. Harry assumes he's going to slick him up, but then Louis' eyes shut in concentration before fluttering open with an accompanying sigh, and Harry gets it. He can just watch as Louis fingers himself, readily keeping eye contact when his eyes are open, which only makes Harry even more aroused.
"Baby," Harry whispers, running his hands over Louis' thighs. Louis just responds by taking his fingers out and moving so that Harry's cock is slotted between his cheeks.
"Yeah?" Louis asks, tilting his head to the side and rocking his hips slowly.
Harry moans and tightens his grip on Louis' thighs, hoping they'll leave handprints. "Sure you can go like this?" Harry asks, and Louis nods. "Don't wanna hurt you." Louis stops moving, and looks him in the eyes before leaning in to kiss him.
"I'll be fine," Louis says, and lifts up to his knees, and casting Harry a glance before guiding himself down onto Harry's dick. Louis squeaks the same time Harry moans once he's fully seated. "See, fine." Louis manages, breathless and an octave higher than usual.
Harry chuckles and kisses Louis' nose, letting him mouth at his neck while adjusting to Harry being inside him. "I love you." Harry whispers, trailing his fingers down Louis' back, settling in the dimples at the bottom of his spine. He wants to map every inch of his body, with his hands, and with his mouth.
"I love you, too." Louis murmurs, kissing Harry's neck once more, straightening up to look at him. Harry smiles, and Louis fights back a giggle. "Stop making me laugh, I'm trying to ride you." Louis says, batting at Harry's chest.
Harry growls somewhere in his chest, and sucks on Louis' neck, moving his hands to grab his ass, and spread his cheeks apart. Harry bucks his hips up, and Louis squeaks, placing his hands on Harry's neck for support as he lifts up, and drops his hips back. Harry makes a noise paralleling a snarl, and grabs at Louis tighter, his thumbs digging into his back dimples.
"Fuck-" Louis moans, tossing his head back over his shoulders, nails digging into the muscle of Harry's neck. "Three fingers were not enough," Louis manages, shifting his weight on his knees to get a better angle before working up a pace.
Harry just sighs and leans forwards to bite on Louis' neck, leaving teeth marks over his jugular. "Feel good?" Harry mumbles, looking up at Louis, whose cheeks are colored bright pink, eyes glazed over.
"Feels big," Louis returns, voice coming out choppy as he fucks himself down onto Harry's length. "Make me feel so good, Hazza, so full." Louis moans, and Harry grabs his neck, pulling him in for a dirty kiss. "Very safe," Louis pants into Harry's mouth, curling his fingers into Harry's hair.
"Baby," Harry moans, placing a last kiss on Louis' lips before getting pushed back onto the bed. Louis splays his hands over Harry's hips, pressing down into his hipbones for leverage. Harry places his hands back on Louis' thighs, and can just watch Louis' face as his lips fall open, and get pulled back between his lips every time he comes down. "So beautiful, love." Harry muses, digging his nails into Louis' thighs.
"Yours," Louis breathes, looking down at Harry. Harry can't help the moan that comes out, nor the upwards shift of his hips. Louis yelps, and Harry watches as a spurt of precome dribbles from his cock, onto his stomach.
"Mine," Harry affirms, spreading Louis' cheeks and driving his cock into him again. Louis stills, and lets Harry fuck him, hard enough to get him bouncing on his lap. "Baby, baby, I'm--" Harry stutters, feeling his muscles contract in want.
Louis' eyes open at that, and he brings his hips back to meet Harry's. "Come on my back?" Louis says, his voice coming out soft and a bit nervous.
That's all it takes for Harry to have Louis pinned to the bed, face down, still buried inside him. His hands are around Louis' hips, holding him steady as he fucks him hard enough for his hips to be pressed against Louis' bum. Louis moans loudly, and his hands fist at the sheets. He wants to press his hips down onto the bed in order to get some sort of friction, but Harry's hands are holding him steady, and all Louis can do is moan. "H--touch me please, oh my g--fuck." Louis begs, nearly sobbing into the pillow.
Harry just grabs Louis tighter, and presses himself over Louis' back so his cock is buried to the hilt in Louis' ass, and grabs a handful of Louis' hair. He tugs roughly, and Louis' head comes back with a squeak. "You're going to come just from my cock, yeah?" It's more of a demand than a question, so Louis just swallows thickly, and nods. "Good boy." Harry kisses Louis' cheek, and straightens onto his knees once more.
Louis can feel himself crying though he can't really register why. One of Harry's hands finds his own, and laces their fingers together on the mattress, and all Louis can do is stare at their fingers. Louis' moaning without restraint now, his entire body tingling with need. "Harry, please." Louis sobs, and Harry surprises them both by bringing his hand down on Louis' ass with a sharp slap. What's even more surprising is the fact that Louis comes on the spot with a loud moan of Harry's name.
"Shit," Harry breathes, and thrusts into Louis twice more before pulling out and wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. He jerks his wrist quickly, and it doesn't take long for Harry to paint Louis' ass, and lower back white. Harry sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, and fumbles for his phone to take a picture. "Fuck me," Harry whines, and falls onto the bed next to Louis.
"You just did," Louis pants, his eyes still closed, and Harry smiles. "Don't think I've ever come so hard," Louis says, finally opening his eyes to meet Harry's. Harry feels a thrum of satisfaction in his chest, and loops an arm around Louis' neck.
"I love you, baby." Harry murmurs, dropping a kiss into his slightly sweaty hair. "Was it the slap? Because if you didn't like it, I'm sorry."
Louis laughs breathlessly and kisses Harry's collarbone. "Look at me," Louis says, and rolls over onto his back, so Harry can see the come streaked all the way up to his chest. "Does it look like I didn't like it?"
Harry just takes another picture, and presses his thumb into one of the bruises flowering on Louis' inner thigh. "Beautiful."
"Sticky." Louis clarifies, but turns back onto his side to snuggle into Harry.
"Yeah," Harry breathes, and closes his eyes for a second before using every last ounce of strength left in his body to get up and get a warm washcloth. Louis just hums a sleepy thanks, and lets Harry manhandle him until he's finally clean and on Harry's chest again.
"I love you too, by the way." Louis says, letting his fingers dip into Harry's collarbone. Harry just laughs, and kisses Louis' forehead.
-
They make it work. Louis has to stay in the studio more, and Harry sticks to doing photo shoots. They move in together after six months of basically sleeping at Harry's flat. Louis pouts about losing the window seat he had in the living room in his flat, so Harry has one put in. He's probably more than in love, but that's okay.
It's two years later, and they're both in New York for the weekend, Harry having had to arrive a day earlier for a shoot, and Louis one day later for a conference. But now they're both free, and eating pizza standing up. Louis' still in his navy suit from the meeting, and Harry doesn't think he'll ever get over it. In taking a bite of his slice of pizza, Louis gets sauce on his chin, which makes Harry giggle a bit. The way he tries to reach it with his tongue is absolutely endearing.
Harry says "Marry me." at the same time Louis says "Pass me a napkin?" and then there's silence.
"What?" Louis blurts, his eyes widening.
Harry opens his mouth, and then shuts it again. He coughs awkwardly, and reaches into the pocket of his coat to pull out the black velvet box he'd bought the day before, and places it on the table, between their paper plates. "I was going to do it in a more romantic place, you know, like Paris, or Rome." Louis is still gaping, and there's still sauce on his chin. "I even had a plan and everything. I was going to take you out to dinner, and then pop the question on the walk back to the hotel somewhere scenic, and take a picture of the ring on your finger with the Eiffel tower in the background, or the Fontana di Trevi, if we were in Italy." Harry laughs, "But, I mean, I don't think the place matters, because I am in love with you here, and I will be in love you in Paris, or Rome, or wherever else we might be." Harry picks up the box again and walks around to stand in front of Louis. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So," Harry smiles, and gets down on one knee, in front of everyone, and opens the box. "Louis Tomlinson, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
Louis' eyes are wide, and watery. "Y-yes. God, yes. Of course." Louis says, covering his mouth with one hand, and holding out his left for Harry to place the ring on. Harry's smiling so hard his cheeks feel like they might rip, and he's positive everyone in the shop is staring at them, but he doesn't care. He stands up and puts his hands on Louis' cheeks, and pulls him in to kiss him. "I'm going to be your spouse." Louis whispers, and Harry giggles before kissing him again.
He takes a picture of Louis' hand in his, with their half eaten pizza in the background. Somehow, he thinks this is better.
Two lines really shouldn't freak Louis out so much, because they are just two lines. But these particular parallel lines are making him want to pass out. He's been staring at the stick for twenty minutes, still trying to wrap his brain around exactly how. It's shaking in his hand now, and the lines are getting a bit blurry from the tears that have been refusing to spill over. The thing is though, this really shouldn't be such a problem, because he and Harry are married. But they've been married for exactly two months, and Louis is already presenting him with children. The thought is a little scary. There's a knock on the door, and Louis jumps, sending the test stick flying into the tub.
"Lou, darling?" Harry asks, his voice soft. Louis hopes he thought to lock the door, but of course, he didn't, and Harry's poking his head through, all dimples and teeth. Louis tries to smile, but he ends up just letting out a soft sob. Harry's got him pressed into his chest in seconds. "What's wrong? Baby, talk to me what's going on?" Harry asks, his voice taking a worried tone as he smooths his hand over Louis' back gently.
Louis doesn't know what to say, so he just sniffles and pushes Harry away to fetch the pregnancy test, and shove it into Harry's chest. Harry blinks at it, and then at Louis. "What?" He says, and Louis just crosses his arms, and smiles softly. "Oh my god." Harry chokes, and looks back at the plastic in his hands. "Oh," It all finally clicks, and Harry looks up at Louis again, tears welling up in his eyes. "Louis." Harry whispers, and closes the distance between them, dropping to his knees and holding his hands over Louis' tummy, not touching just yet. "Is this real?" He asks quietly, and looks up at Louis.
Louis just nods, and blinks quickly, making the remainder of his tears slide down his cheeks. "Yeah." He murmurs, and Harry smiles wide, finally placing his hands on Louis' tummy.
"Hi," Harry coos softly, placing a sweet kiss below Louis' belly button. "Hi baby,"
"You know it's only a zygote right now, yeah?" Louis laughs, and runs his fingers through Harry's hair.
"Yeah but it's our zygote." Harry says, kissing Louis' tummy once more before standing up and kissing his forehead.
"So we're really doing this? You want to?" Louis asks, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and resting his cheek against the softness of his shirt.
"Of course I do." Harry breathes, "Do you?"
Louis looks up at Harry, and smiles. "Yes."
"I love you so much." Harry mumbles, cupping Louis' cheek and thumbing over his cheekbone.
"Will you still love me as much when I look like I ingested a yoga ball?" Louis teases, digging his fingers into Harry's side, making him flinch away.
"Shut up, of course I will." Harry rolls his eyes and kisses him. "You're my husband, and now you're carrying our baby. I will love you forever ever."
Louis feels himself blush, and looks down for a second. "I love you forever ever, more."
It's two in the morning when Louis feels the first kick. He yelps and puts a protective hand over the prominent swell of his tummy, not knowing exactly what happened. He feels another kick, and this time it all makes sense. "Harry!" Louis yells, reaching out to slap at Harry's chest frantically.
"What? What! I'm up, what's wrong?" Harry jumps, sitting up straight, looking a bit bewildered.
"She kicked!" Louis squeals, and grabs Harry's hand, pulling it to the left side of his tummy where he'd felt the last one. They wait in heavy silence, and then there's another kick, which makes Harry gasp suddenly. He puts both of his hands on Louis' tummy, cradling it lovingly, moving to fit between Louis' legs.
"That's our baby girl." Harry says, his voice wavering slightly. Louis finds himself tearing up, and he can just nod. "My baby boy's having my baby girl." Harry coos, pressing a soft kiss under Louis' navel. Louis can only giggle softly, and place his hand over Harry's.
The first word Leah says is 'up' while pointing at the sky enthusiastically, and it's fitting, really.