Modest Oblivion - Book 6 (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 26 - Passion pleas that ended in a whisper

Hi my beautiful, perfect, dedicated and PATIENT readers. I am sorry for all the delay and complete absence but I actually got a job at Apple, it has always been one of my dream careers and thus I am very excited. So, since I have gotten this job I have spent quite some time in extensive training, phew, I am sorry for the delay. Modest has not been forgotten. All my love, always. – J

‘Whisper’ – The Dear Hunter

Passion pleas that ended in a whisper

Louis had lost count of his orgasms after the fourth time Harry made his world come undone, his blood rushing all over his body and his thoughts incomprehensible. He smiled, the ghost of Harry’s caress lingering on his milky skin like shadows. Louis’ body was present but his mind was far away, absent as he recalled the way his lungs were drained of all breath. He screamed out Harry’s name, forgot his pain and worries as Harry rode him deeply, feverishly. 

Louis stood in their enormous bedroom, and stared distractedly at his reflection noting the euphoric version of himself. It felt good to let go, to come undone beneath Harry’s shuddering body as the water cascaded down upon them like a crystallised waterfall. Louis found himself standing taller, he felt stronger and even more invigorated. It was as if Harry himself had revived Louis’ disconsolate soul from his darkness. 

Louis closed his eyes, brushing his fingers along his lips as sunset dipped through the window and striped the wall with beams of burnt orange and yellow. 

Louis brushed a hand through his wet hair, his hair was straight and a dark chestnut brown. He wore a short sleeve maroon top with a black collar, black skin tight pants and of course a pair of black Vans. His hair was flicked over his head and out of his eyes, he blinked even his blue eyes seemed to shine brightly. The things you do to me, Harry Styles. 

Louis head was light, his thoughts easy and careless as he turned around to see Harry smirking at him. Louis beamed, “Hey, you.”

Harry’s face flushed bright red, “Hey, yourself.”

Louis bit his bottom lip, “So that was…” he paused, raking a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “…Intense.”

Harry snorted, “To say the least.”

“Are we–“

Harry cut Louis off, “Okay?” as he stepped forward. His jeans were torn in the knees and his bare chest had droplets of water. The water danced around his tattoos, the black moth on his stomach and filigree leaves that sat on his hip bones. Louis looked at them, his eyes following the hard lines of each tattoo and he bit his bottom lip, feeling heat stirring deep in his crotch…again. 

“Yes,” Louis replied, unease hidden in each letter that he spoke.

“Of course,” Harry said and Louis believed him. He added, “But you haven’t forgotten what I told you?”

Louis blinked.

Harry hesitated. 

Like that, the simple flick of a switch and Louis was thrust back into reality. A reality where Harry wasn’t the perfect boy Louis thought he was. Where Harry was dark, he had addictions and secrets. Skeletons in his closet that Louis was almost sure he was willing to keep to himself. My boy, my dark, desolate boy, Louis thought as a shiver ran down his spine. 

His expression dropped, lost in thought and Harry noticed the change. So he moved closer, took Louis’ hand lifting it to brush against Harry’s cheek. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in Louis’ touch.

For a moment Louis was so unsteady from the recollection of Harry’s confession that he flinched. For a moment he wanted to pull away, distance himself from Harry and his secrets. But Louis let his hand rest on Harry’s heated cheek, his fingers brushed against his stubble. It was a familiar feeling, Harry’s skin was an extension of Louis’ own body.