genophobia

VII.

Louis' POV:

My eyes were wide open as Harry enveloped me in a hug, I could feel my pulse in my temples and I wasn't crying anymore, but my lashes and cheeks were still damp and red from doing so.

I felt out of my head, my heart racing as I tried to catch my breath.

I just had my first orgasm with my boyfriend.

What was I supposed to do now?

Harry laid down on his side, pulling me down slightly to do the same. I laid on my side, facing him as I met my gaze to his face. He was smiling at me, his eyes filled with something.

Lust.

Oh, yeah. He's still...

My stomach stung with a pain in my side, so overwhelmed and overworked at this point, but what am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to do?

"Harry." I managed to croak out, I realized now how much I hadn't said this whole time. I didn't know what to say.

I looked down between us, feeling him against my thigh. It was hot, not the kind like you'd say about someone you find attractive. There was so much warmth coming from him, his body still reeling from what happened.

Mine was too, just not in the same way.

"Yes, baby?" Harry said to me, his hand depositing in my hair to push back my damp with sweat fringe. There was a lump in my throat, I felt like I was going to be sick, and I'm not sure if it was from what just happened or from the thought of what I'm going to do about Harry.

"I-I... I don't know what to do." My voice was pathetic, but that's how I felt. My eyes weren't on Harry anymore, they were directed somewhere on our bodies, my brain was gone by now and my body was spent, but somehow I was still there enough to let his hard on have an effect on me.

"What? Lou." Harry seemed confused, or he sounded that way, I still hadn't taken a moment to look at him, then it sounded like he caught it. "You don't have to do anything." Harry said, trying to bring me to look at him, his hand encouraging my face to turn.

Eye contact was something weird to me, of course I loved looking in his beautiful eyes, I loved them, because I loved him, but in certain times it made me uncomfortable, like they're trying to look into my soul.

But Harry wasn't, Harry was trying to be sweet to me, because he knew he fucked up.

Right?

I went to open my mouth but I just closed it again, I didn't know how to answer that. I don't want to do anything- I never have before, and after that?

I'd be fine never having to take mine or anyone's clothes off ever again, I don't even know that I will to shower.

Do it, it'll give him a fix, then maybe this won't happen again.

I don't think I spoke for a while, too long maybe because Harry laid on his back, coaxing me towards him to lay down.

How the fuck can he still be hard?

He looked up at the opening of the tent, rubbing my back as he rested his other hand in my hair. All I could do was stare blankly at his boxers, at the wet spot towards his head, at the obvious form around his cock.

Holy shit I don't want to do this.

I put my face down against his clothed chest, closing my eyes and breathing in his scent, Harryharryharry.

That smell gives me comfort, but not enough right now to silence my racing heart. Not enough to make me feel comfortable in this moment, not while lying next to the love of my life while he's sporting a hard on and just finished jerking off his bitch of a boyfriend.