you put the O in disOrder ➢ (l.s)

O.16

(HARRY'S POV)

"Nothing?" He asks me in a whisper and I nod.

"Not one thing." I clarify, then giggle a bit.

"Okay, maybe some homework here and there, since you know, you always distract me from it." I say and he tickles my side with his own beautiful laugh, making me gasp and squirm.

"Louis!" I whisper yell through fits of soft laughter. "My mom's sleeping!" I say and he stops but turns off the recorder, and sits me on his lap so were face to face.

"Scandalous." He says and I nod, leaning forward to peck his lips.

Which... Doesn't really turn out to be just a peck.

Our tongues are best friends by now, lets just put it that way.

I cup his face in both my hands and he holds my back, pressing me impossibly close to him as everything blurs in my head until it's just...

Louis.

He pulls off my lips for a moment to look up at me, his wide blue eyes silently begging for something.

What is it?

"I w-wanna touch you." He says breathlessly, and I swallow biting my lip hard after.

I can't lie. I want him to touch me too. I want to touch him... All over. I want him.

I. Want. Him.

I nod quickly and unhinge my lip from my teeth to kiss him again, "Want it." I mumble on his lips and he kisses back, muffling my words with his mouth.

I let go and slip off his lap to sit next to him, and I'm afraid...

What if he decides to change his mind about... us?

About everything?

What happens if Thumper leaves Bambi?

I lay back and let him hover over me, kneeling between my legs as he trails his chilly fingers down my tummy and to my zipper.

"This s'okay?" He says, his shaking fingers over my pants button.

He's nervous.

Just like me.

I nod in conformation.

He proceeds to unbutton me, and zip me down.

And my heart flinches when he starts to unbutton himself.

Then, before I can even think, I'm the one unzipping him.

Finishing the job.

He smiles and I smile back, then he shimmies my jeans off a little bit, leaving them beside the couch when he's done, along with his own pants afterwards.

At this point, is it bad that I couldn't care less if my mom walked in on us?

Eh, whatever.

We're both in our boxers when he gently sits me on his lap again and threads his fingers through my curls lightly, making me lean into his touch.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He asks and I hum, my eyes hooding half way as I nod my head slowly with a soft smile.

"Okay." He breathes out, and he presses are foreheads together.

I love when he does that.

I love him.

When I feel my boxer band being pulled back a few moments later, I close my eyes.