Caught [l.s] (boyxboy)

IM Giddy

when in doubt and having writer's block, immediately turn to plotless fluff. am i right ladies

i'm right.

and i'm going to start writing an mpreg this weekend, i think. i'll update it on sundays if all goes according to plan; i just need to tweak the plot a bit more. (i literally make word documents with plot outlines and charts and stuff) and if you don't wanna read it that's fine, i honestly don't care.

oh, and thank you for being so sweet in my previous author's note. i love you guys so so much, okay? 

QOTC: how do you guys feel about wattpad's new profile layout? (i'm not fond of it, but i can't switch back now. so, oh well.)

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"I love you," Harry repeats. "I love you."

"You love me?" Louis asks, even though Harry's just told him three times; he's not sure if he actually believes him. 

"I do."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"How much do you promise?" Harry bumps their noses again together as he laughs. Louis is so giddy that he feels like he might explode, actually. "I need to know if you're fucking with my emotions."

"I'm not fucking with your emotions," Harry pauses. "But there is something of yours that I'd love to be fucking with-"

"Harry," Louis squeaks, aghast. Harry's laughter echoes around the kitchen, off the walls, off the floor, in the cracks and crevices and even behind the refridgerator: Harry is everywhere. He's in Louis' thoughts, dreams, veins, and now he's in his heart. How the bastard managed to weasle his way in there without Louis' permission is beyond him, but to be completely honest, he isn't sure if he minds.

"I'm only kidding," Harry assures, but the glint in his eye says something else. Louis cups Harry's face in his hand, tracing his thumbs across Harry's cheekbones as they sit in a comfortable silence, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, heart to heart.

Harry ruins the silence quickly, however. "How long have you loved me?"

"Oh, I don't know." Louis does know, of course. "Is it too cliche of me to say I've loved you from the moment I first layed eyes on you?"

"Yes. Well, maybe it wouldn't be if the circumstances we had met under had been different," Harry chuckles, but Louis can't see his face because his eyes are still closed (he's too convinced this a dream to open them) but he can feel Harry's warm, coffee-scented breath against his face as he speaks and laughs and just exists. Louis is completely blissed out. "But, like. I pissed on you."

"I've nearly forgot about that," Louis smiles. He peeks at Harry, and the breath is nearly knocked from his lungs by an invisible force when he sees that Harry is already staring at him with smiles in his eyes and a sparkle in them that makes Louis forget his own name. 

Louis forgets how breathtakingly beautiful Harry is at times. It's not even an exaggeration, it's not; Harry is literally the epitome of perfection. Louis wants to tug on one of his ever so long strands of his hair, just to make sure he's real, just to make sure he's there. 

"Have you really?"

"No," Louis answers truthfully. "I could never forget about the day we met."

Harry's hand brushes over the skin of Louis' hip under his shirt as he sighs softly. "D'ya ever wonder what things would be like if we hadn't met? You know, if I had managed to avoid pissing on you." Louis smiles as Harry tugs him from his own chair onto his lap (they seem to be in this position alot; Louis isn't exactly complaining, if he's honest). "I think it'd be a pretty shit life. And you know what? Every morning I've woken up since I've met you, I swear the sun's been a little bit brighter, the air's been a little bit crisper; you've gotten a little bit more beautiful every damn day, and for that I love you." 

Louis blushes, but his face is tucked into Harry's neck so well that he doesn't think Harry can tell, thank God - his face has practically become a cherry tomato with a nose, eyes, and a mouth. "You're a cheese ball."

"Cheese is good for you. It's good for your bones," Harry traces a finger down the skin of Louis' arm and rests it at his elbow. "For your skin, for your heart. For you."

"Harry," Louis wishes he had the brain or the courage to come up with responses to half of the things Harry says to him.

"And you know what else? I didn't even know I loved you until you said it, I think. Just. When you said it, I knew I loved you too. And it makes me sorry I hadn't realized it earlier, because I could have made a proper deal out of it. See, I can already picture it: we could go on a boat, or a picnic in the park. Candles. Heart shaped balloons, yeah. We could have a violinist, a real fancy meal Lou; the whole lot. And then we could make sweet, passionate love until the early morning hours-"

"Okay, okay," Louis mutters. "I'm not really one for romantic gestures, H. I love you."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, I just wanted to tell you again."

"Alright. I like it."

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. So much."

"I love you, I'm pretty sure. I mean, it feels weird saying it because it's been so long since I have but like I don't feel very skeptical at all-"

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Louis isn't in the mood to listen to Harry's babble, so he kisses him once on the lips to shut him up before he presses feather-light pecks to the skin of Harry's jaw, cheeks, and collarbones. "I love this, and this, and this - and especially this." Louis' palm lands directly on Hary's crotch; Harry fidgets and huffs out an agitated breath as Louis removes his hand as quickly as he had groped Harry.

"Tease."

"You love me, though."

"I do."