Illusion

Chapter 14: Adventures, Hickeys And Occasional Chairs

Louis couldn't help the tears of joy that welled in his eyes, or the lump that formed in his throat whenever he caught a glimpse of the photo. Louis still remembered the stunned expression on the staff members face as he'd handed it over to Harry with shaking hands, words tumbling out of his mouth in utter disbelief. He'd told them both that in all the years he'd worked at Eureka Tower, taking countless photos every single day, he'd never captured one quite like the one he had taken of Harry and Louis.

It sat pride of place, on what was now Harry's bedside table, edged in an intricate silver frame that only enhanced the beauty of the photograph. Louis liked to sit and admire it as he waited for Harry to finish showering on the nights they didn't share one, or as he dressed, or for just about any reason really.

As Louis looked at it now, pulling his mismatched socks and battered Vans onto his feet, even he couldn't believe just how perfect it was. There was nothing particularly special about the way he or Harry had been standing, facing each other, bodies angled towards the camera, or the fact that they were kissing tenderly, or even that both of them were crying. It was the blinding flash of sunlight behind them that had been captured by the camera that had made it truly special, the way it fanned out on either side of them, creating the illusion that neither Harry nor Louis were in the glass cube at all, but simply floating on air, bathed in an ethereal glow. That was what made it so special.

“I don't think I'll ever get sick of looking at that,” came Harry's voice from the entry of the walk in closet. Louis stood, turning to face him, now ready for their latest adventure.

“No, I don't think I ever will either,” Louis said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, now focusing his attention on Harry, watching as his long fingers worked at the buttons of yet another gaudy shirt.

“Flamingos look good on you,” Louis said with a smile. He wasn't lying. The shirt actually did look good on him, despite the fact that if anyone else were to wear a black button up plastered with pink flamingos, they'd look like a middle aged man at a Luau.

Harry flashed him a shy smile, his cheeks flushing pink at Louis’ words. Despite the confidence he exuded on stage to his legion of adoring fans, he was reduced to his shy, stuttering, sixteen year old self whenever he was alone with Louis. And he had to admit, he kind of liked it, the way that Louis could make his heart race, his skin tingle and his knees weak simply by looking at him or offering sincere praise.

“Are you sure it looks OK?” Harry asked nervously, his hands still working unsteadily at the tiny black buttons.

“Of course I'm sure, you look beautiful Haz, you always do.” Louis walked over to where Harry was standing, moving his hands away and beginning to fasten the few remaining buttons for him.

Louis could feel Harry tense as his knuckles skimmed the bare skin of his chest. When the buttons were secured, Louis moved to the short sleeves, folding them back a few times, just as he knew Harry liked them. When he was finished, he pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's collar bones, skimming his nose and his lips over Harry's smooth skin, before running his tongue up the length of Harry's neck, coming to a stop at his parted lips.

They kissed for a moment, gentle at first, but quickly becoming more heated as was usually the case. Louis fought to pull himself away from Harry, knowing that he'd love nothing more than to spend the day wrapped up in Harry's arms, lovingly devouring him from the inside out, making Harry come apart at the seams, but he'd promised him they'd explore more of Louis’ little slice of paradise and that's exactly what they were going to do.

Harry had clearly been thinking the same thing and they reluctantly separated, breathing heavily, staring longingly into each other's eyes.

“What are we like?” Harry said with a chuckle, dimples on show.