Over the Centuries

Teil Acht

When Louis emerged from the bathroom he was already dressed and he looked slightly uncomfortable, like he was stalling and didn't know what to say. Harry watched him from the bed, also a bit uncomfortable. They both wore deep blushes and at last Louis announced that the fridge was emptying so he'd drive to Tesco in order to refill the shelves. Harry was both disappointed and relieved. Louis grabbed his car keys from the dresser and was just about to walk out the door when he hesitated, inhaled deeply and turned around before saying:

"Uhm, eh, Harry, I just thought I'd say that um, I wasn't opposed to what happened earlier. So, yeah, I wouldn't mind it happening again... and maybe taking things further than that, I don't know. I mean it depends on what you feel." Louis left quickly without waiting for a reply.

Harry sat there, stunned, with his heart galloping faster than a wild stallion. Louis wanted to do those sorts of things again? With Harry? That thought made him frown a little. Had he kidnapped Harry to be some kind of sex-toy? A little part of Harry didn't necessarily mind that too much, but still. Although, if Louis had been after Harry's body from the start, wouldn't he have claimed it already? His heart stuttered a little at the thought of cuddling with Louis and drinking two-in-the-morning-tea with him. Walking by the beach in the soft light of a dying sun. He wanted to stare into the depths of Louis' oceans for hours. And somehow the thought of losing Louis was even more terrifying than the fact that there were dodgy after him.

How had this become his life?

An hour after Louis departure to the store, Harry had eaten a bowl of cereal and was now bored out of his mind. He had his laptop with several films available to him, but he didn't want to sit and watch a screen. Harry flung himself down on the bed and stared up at the stone ceiling, wondering how long he would've lasted had he been on his own. Probably not very long. Harry thought of his family as his eyes traced the dark corners where ceiling touched wall. What did they think happened to him? Were they looking for him? Did they miss him? Harry's gaze rested on the old fashioned chest atop the wardrobe. He wasn't usually the type to snoop around but right now, Harry was filled with a strange curiosity to know more about Louis and well, he wasn't here at the moment, now was he? Harry simply had to find out some things on his own. That is what he told himself while standing up and reaching for the chest. He could not pick it up from his position as the material was a heavy, dark wood. He reasoned that he would probably need a chair or stool so he could get a better grip on it.

Louis returned during the fruitless search for the piece of furniture and Harry had no choice but to suppress his curiosity. Louis was carrying two grocery bags in each hand and his face pleaded with Harry to relieve him of some of it. Harry scurried over and took two of the four bags from Louis' blue fingers. They had gotten a slight blood shortage, poor things.

They spoke casually while unloading the goods into the fridge and cupboard.

They had a system.

Harry was responsible for the stuff that were in need of lower temperatures, so he was seated on the floor. And his job was also also to hand Louis the stuff that'd go into the cupboard, meaning Louis stood. Now, perhaps it could seem a tad unpractical for the taller lad to be sitting on the floor where his height was of no use, when the other had to stretch and stand on his toes to put something on the highest shelf. Yes, very unpractical, but for Harry it was rather pleasant conditions. A very pleasant view. And Louis never suggested for them to switch places, so Harry kept enjoying in silence.

Louis told him about and old granny at Tesco who had scolded her grandson for wanting a doll; she wouldn't accept a faggot as her grandchild. He was obviously upset about it and Harry just really wanted to hug him. He was frowning cutely with a crease between his eyebrows, disturbing his otherwise smooth face.

"I hate sexism, and homophobia and racism and- and every other belief that values some people above others," he muttered as he shoved a can of beans next to one of crushed tomatoes. "I'm aware that it used to be worse, but it seems people are using that as an excuse to not actively do something about it today. I'm fed up!"

He stormed out of the kitchen even though he wasn't finished. But it was alright, Harry put in effort for the both of them.

When he was done he followed Louis' earlier steps to find the lad sprawled over the bed and glaring at the ceiling. Harry sat down next to him and when Louis showed no sign of acknowledgement, Harry's heart took a daring leap as his hand found Louis' fringe and it fluttered in his chest when he felt how soft the hair was. Harry's breath trembled as he said, "You're quite cute when you're pissed, so that's a plus."

Harry blushed when Louis' oceans caught him and he realised how stupid it sounded. Like, was it a plus for Louis? Or did he now reveal that he thought a lot about how cute Louis was?

He blushed deeper and deeper and Louis found it so infinitely adorable. And he couldn't control his arms anymore, they just hugged Harry's middle and then his face was buried in Harry's shirt. It smelled nice; it smelled of Harry.

He sat up properly and moved his arms to around Harry's neck. There was a look in Harry's eyes; a look of clear honesty, openness and hope. His eyes were so round and this moment felt infinite and every one of Harry's lashes contributed exquisitely. Louis was so profoundly in love, and that gave him the boldness to lean in closer. He brushed his lips tenderly against Harry's and with that gentle pressure to his mouth, he dared not to move a muscle in fear that even his faintest breath would endanger the fragile state of the moment. A flutter of his lash could shatter the magic that made his blood pump with an increased frequency.

It wasn't exactly a kiss, more a touch of skin against skin, and when Louis pulled back a few centimetres he wasn't brave enough to open his eyes. His cowardice had taken a needle and sewn his eyelids together, discouraging him to see the reaction of his fleeting moment of bravery.

Among the things he had thought possible, was not the scenario that played out. Harry's voice was barely a whisper when he muttered the swallowed curse, and Louis could almost hear how furrowed his eyebrows were.

"Fuck it," was like a ghost over the thin skin of Louis' lips. Harry's arms snaked around his waist and with a determined, forceful kiss, Harry pushed Louis down on the bed and the next thing the older could comprehend was Harry's weight on top of him, straddling him.

He stared at Harry with wide eyes, whose face was cast in shadow by the unruly curls. Louis could detect the slight shade of embarrassment on his cheeks, though.

The moment Louis felt Harry's hot, wet tongue against his lips, Harry pulled back and looked him in the eyes with a wild strain to the muscles around his lower lash lines.

"I'm sorry, Lou," his voice was so rough, Louis could feel the friction against his hardening penis. "I cannot help myself, I-I need- you're irresistible."

Louis face ignited in a way that was so foreign to him; it was a distant echo of all those years ago. His gaze and better judgement were clouded over by desire and his thoughts were so jumbled, he barely managed to breathe out "Then don't resist," against Harry's lips.