All You Are is What I Need (Larry BoyxBoy) Book 2

Twenty Six

It feels like all the disparity of earlier was lifted from their lungs, and now instead of breathing air, they are breathing each other; through their palms against each others skin, the giggles filtering from their lips into each others necks, god, they could spend hours doused in each others radiance. They could waste years away, wrapped around each other, whispering little things, and never running out of words to say to each other, things to breathe against each others skin.

8:00 a.m. They found a carton of strawberry milk at a little 24/7 market, along with a disgustingly cheap looking body wash. It just says 'original scent' on a white and blue bottle, the cream smelling not better than toilet paper. Louis wants to get something better, but Harry is already in line and paying for the crap stuff, so instead, he sighs, and runs his hand down Harry's arm just because.

Right now, they are sitting on a wooden bench on a sandy pathway that leads down to the beach. Despite it being summer, the clouds are still rolling in because it is still relatively early in the morning. The air around them feels grey, and the skyline is a mixture of dust and dark, and the water looks cold and terrifying. They pass the carton back and forth between each other, taking slow sips of the strawberry milk that they've both grown so used to, and letting the crisp breeze ruffle their hair.

There is a feeling of freedom here. The air is different- fresh; the trees, ground, shops- all offbeat to their home now. The thing is, no one knows who they are here. Its just them, next to each other, being whoever they want. It feels like a momentary new beginning.

(Whilst they sit there, they both think the same thing: days have passed and I have missed them.

The breathlessness of the ocean and wisps of air is the reminder that this is their existence. They are not wasting time. They are not bound by a linear definition of progression. They are alive.)

Louis leans over, resting his head on Harrys shoulder and tangling their fingers together. The ocean waves turn from dark to white as they crash against the shore in a raw rasp. "Harry?" he murmurs quietly,' feeling the same rawness inside of him.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Harry squeezes Louis' hand, "I love you too."

*

They don't go back to the hotel, not yet.

They text the others and tell them they are going to eat lunch together. They spend their well-into-the-afternoon-time wandering mindlessly through the small beach city. There's this wholeness that comes after being so vulnerable with each other; admitting to the gravity of their lapses for the very first, talking about it, not pushing aside the facts that they get moody, and jealous, and hurt. It's a wholeness of a relationship.

A type of entirety that makes them want to constantly feel each others skin pressed together; they want to pour each others cereal, and take awful photos together, and get annoyed over having to share a bathroom, but even if there was another one they'd still choose to share one because it would just be weird not fighting about it.

*

Harry takes Louis' palm in his own hand when they are in a little cafe on the backside of the rocky shore. He holds it open, spreading each one of Louis' fingers apart- feeling each length, every bone, and curve- before pressing his lips to the centre of Louis' palm. He grabs one of the keno markers at the side of their table, uncaps it, and draws a heart over where he kissed, marking it with the letter 'H.'

Then, his tongue is poking between his lips and he is licking over Louis' palm, right there, lapping off his own skin from Louis' hand until the black ink is just a light smudge in the creases and lines of Louis' palm. He kisses it again, eyes closing momentarily, before folding Louis' hand back into a lazy fist.