Where We Belong

Chapter 13

"Wha'?" Louis asks, and his voice comes out so frail it's mostly a breath.

Harry gives a frowny smile, and mouths out something along the lines of who's on the phone?

"Zayn," Louis replies, because he's the biggest bloody idiot in the world.

"Hi Zaaayn!" Harry yells, jumping to the phone and prying it out of Louis' hand, "how's it feel being ancient?"

Louis can't hear what Zayn replies, but he can hear his heart pounding against his rib-cage. "Harry, please give me—"

"Ahah, shut the fuck up, you bitter old man," Harry chuckles into the phone, whacking Louis' grabby hands away from himself, "oh, by the way, how'd it go with the stripper? Did you pull or was he all tease?"

Louis' entire body freezes.

Harry picks at his bottom lip, face expressionless as he listens to Zayn's response. Louis thinks he might die.

"Oh, wow," Harry finally says, his brows flying upwards, "oh, wow, what a massive prick... yeah... wow, that's disgusting, what a slag... yeah."

Louis stares at him, waiting anxiously for him to look up and meet his gaze, unable to breathe before he does.

He doesn't, just yet. "All right, I'll let you go, then- d'you want Lou back? Oh, all right. All right, see ya," he gives a weird smile, "love you too, mate," he says, brows furrowing a little, "is something the matter, you sound... I don't know, just the first time I've ever heard you say you loved me in, like, all the time I've known you. S'it like a bucket list-thing cause you're old now? Tell all your friends you love them before it's too late or—"

The beep is loud enough for Louis to hear.

"The fuck..." Harry murmurs, taking the phone off his ear. Soon as he does, Louis takes advantage and snatches it back. "He hung up."

"Probably just the reception."

"He lives on the seventh floor in London, Louis," Harry nods at the phone, "call him back."

Louis flicks it off and gives the worst, most false chuckle of his life. "Why? You were done talking."

"Yeah, but- it just cut off, I've gotta just give him a quick ring to see if he's all right."

At a loss for anything else to do or say, beginning to panic, Louis reaches his throbbing fingertips out and yanks Harry close. Soon as he's within reach, he attacks Harry's lips, then his jaw, his throat, his neck, swings his legs around his waist and locks him in.

"Wow, hey, shit— "

"You look so good right now," Louis says, and hopes his raspy voice just comes off as being suddenly overwhelmed with arousal, "want you now—"

Harry grunts at that, thrusting up against him, "yeah? You- what do you want, d'you want—"

"Want you," Louis says, clawing at Harry's back, squeezing him with his thighs, "want you, just want you, come on, let's—"

"Yeah, I- fuck yeah, okay," Harry hauls him off the counter then, taking him back to the bedroom.

He throws Louis on the bed, stops for a moment to smooth his hair back from his face and tie up in a bun, as Louis bounces off the mattress and then begins to shimmy out of his trackies.

For a moment after, Harry just stands there, licking his lips and jerking his big dick to full hardness.

"What do you want?" Louis asks him, getting a hold of his own dick, not taking his eyes off of Harry, even as it's a struggle, even as his heart still sits behind his teeth, hard lump of guilt stuck in his throat.