R O O M 1 9 7 // Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson Edition

Eleven

~Friday 30th December 2016~

13:56 pm

When Harry flashes a dimpled smile, to which Louis responds with a wink, it's like a silent contract between them.

Louis reaches for Harry and places his palms on either side of Harry's neck. The winter sun beams through the large windows behind them, making the room seem like it's glowing with golden orange tones. Louis' fingers trace the colour casting onto Harry's skin, pressing his hands against Harry's hot collarbone. Harry has to step back, holding both of Louis' hands in one of his, looking him in the eyes, with a serious expression.

"Are you definitely sure? About all of this?" He asks once again, searching Louis' eyes for even an ounce of uncertainty, but he finds none. They'd only had their second kiss this afternoon. But, Harry can feel that things have changed, in the air that hangs between them. Infatuation and need has taken hold - and in Louis' gaze, Harry can tell that this is right. But, so wrong.
"You're married." Harry adds, sighing as if the information has only just settled in his brain.
"Unhappily married." Louis points out, remembering the wedding ring inside his pocket. "Harry," Louis says, lifting Harry's chin with his hand, wanting to look him in the eyes, as he speaks. "I have been so lost for so long. I sometimes feels like I fell head first into this life, like some bullshit out of Alice in Wonderland or something. I was young and naive and I wanted to feel like an adult. I went along with decisions being made for me, because it was easier than standing up for myself.
"And, that's when I lost control. I got married. I started working more and more hours. I found myself creating things that I had no passion for, and that's when my anger attacks started becoming more frequent. Moving the business to Chicago has been the most stressful period of my life so far and I was so ready to just give it all up.
"But, then on my second day here, this scruffy-haired guy stumbles into my life and starts working for me. Harry, I don't think you understand. All I have wanted these last seven years, is something new, something refreshing." Louis explains, feeling relieved that all this is no longer taking up space in his head.
"That's you." Louis smiles, and Harry can't resist the grin that morphs into his lips. "My delicious breath of fresh air - so wanted, so needed." Louis finishes his words, with a wide smile, his eyes glimmering with affection. Harry never thought this possible - his boss feeling the same way he does - and for a moment, he panics that this is all a dream. But, as Louis reaches forward, placing his lips gently upon Harry's, he knows that this is now his reality, smiling into the kiss, unable to wipe the ecstasy from his face.

They stay like this, as Harry buries his head into the crook between Louis' shoulder and his cheek, pressing his mouth against the soft skin that lays there. Louis' fingers remain in their place, entwined around Harry's thick hair, holding him close. He presses a delicate kiss into Harry's hair, as Harry gently bites against the skin of Louis' shoulder. Silence seems to be their favourite place, as they remain still, breathing in the last few minutes of this moment.

Harry sits back down upon the bed, pulling Louis with him, their lips still connecting. Louis places a knee either side of Harry's waist, placing himself atop Harry's lap, which shocks Harry slightly, but he doesn't act upon the surprise - focusing on Louis' hands trailing down his torso instead. In all of the eleven days that Harry and Louis have known each other, their dynamic as a two-piece has stayed the same. Louis leads, he instructs Harry and holds a calm authority in his voice. This display - Louis straddling Harry's lap - is a rare show of the opposite. Harry, the taller but more shy of the two, now leads, in control of the embrace, as Louis kisses his neck.

He leans back, pulling himself away from Louis, whose hands fall into his lap, curious, before Harry reaches forward, pulling the top buttons of Louis' shirt open, eager to set eyes upon his tattoo again. The inked words across Louis' pale chest, resonate with Harry and he smiles, as Louis kisses the edge of his lips.
It's now, as Louis grabs him by the face, kissing him hard, that it hits Harry. This is all he has wished for these past days. From the moment he stepped through Room 197's threshold, he was magnetically drawn to Mr Tomlinson and his charming grin and beautiful character. And, now with his lips pressed hard against Louis' and his arms wrapped around his back in a loving grip, Harry bursts with complete ecstasy - content and happy.

Louis gently bites onto the skin of Harry's shoulder and in an instant, Harry's heart starts hammering against his chest and he pulls Louis closer once again, accepting Louis' waiting kiss.

There's hushed whispers, messages of need and craving, as they move to the right side of the bed. The clothes they just put back on, are removed, as both men fumble over tie knots and belt buckles.
They take it slow, sharing reassuring kisses and tender touches.
Louis hasn't seen another man naked since he was 17, so makes sure to spend time taking in every detail of Harry's splendid body, tracing every line with his finger, smoothing his hands over every tattoo, studying the masterpiece that is his young lover's form.
Harry - who still remembers his many drunken one night stands and the way they looked - is not as slow to memorise Louis' body, impatient and eager to kiss him. Harry always imagined Louis' body - under his smart clothes - would be something to behold, and it is - but maybe it's Harry's age that makes him so reluctant to slow their pace, wanting nothing more than to sink back into the mattress, bringing Louis with him.

Despite it being the middle of winter outside, Room 197 is thick with humid air, as they lay beside each other, bringing the thin sheets over their entwined bodies.
Neither of the young men have found logic to their actions yet, acting on impulse and need alone.
They kiss and bite and touch and moan - all inhibitions gone, no worry, no caution - just two beings pulled together in a magnetic force.

And, it's only when the sun has set for the night, that Louis and Harry fall still and silent, becoming a tangle of limbs and bed sheets, sweat still lingering upon the surface of their skin. They lay beside each other - out of breath, one hand each placed somewhere on their counterpart - late into the night, talking quietly and staring up at the ceiling, knowing that they share the same feelings.

It's strange and it's unnerving and it's new.
They both feel at home with each other, at home in the other's embrace, at home inside this dingy room of a Chicago hotel with no-one but each other...

Chapter Image by @melmanpur on Instagram