Songs For How You Taste | l.s.

Chapter 15

They were both bundled up under the covers, Louis' feet pressed between Harry's calves. Harry's head rested on his chest, curls under his nose tickling him awake. Louis blinked, dazed and still half asleep.

He sunk lower into the cuddle, Harry barely waking up, just enough to wrap strong, long arms around Louis' shoulders.

Sleepy breaths filled the room as they fell back into a soft slumber.

*

Hot oil popped, bacon sizzling in the skillet. Louis hummed to himself, searching through a set of drawers for a pair of tongs. They weren't in the one next to him. So, he scooted past Harry, not able to avoid brushing past him in the small kitchen, obviously. He pulled open the drawer next to him, pulling out the metal utensil, clicking them twice for good measure.

He went back to his place on the stove, which just so happened to require grazing Harry's skin one more time. Harry looked up at him from the mixture he was whisking, egg and cream and sugar and cinnamon, the perfect beginnings to a French toast.

The Beatles crooned over an old cassette player that Harry had in the corner of his kitchen. The dusty, old thing was now grey, despite probably once being black, and the speakers would crackle every so often. When Louis saw Harry turn it on, he couldn't resist making fun of him.

"Okay, grandpa. You have an iPhone and Bluetooth speakers. Please join us in the 21st century."

Harry chuckled, dimple a deep indent in his cheek. "It doesn't sound the same," he whined.

"Right, the quality is actually better on the phone." Louis said with a raised eyebrow.

But honestly, Louis had very little to complain about. Because when Louis pulled the last of the bacon off the frying pan, the opening notes for Here Comes the Sun whined over the crackling speakers. Harry pulled the tongs out of Louis' hand, setting them down on the counter. Then he laced their fingers together; Harry excitedly hopped around the kitchen. There was very little rhythm to his movements, just joyous flailing of arms and bouncy bare feet slapping against the linoleum tiled floor.

Giggles erupted from Louis' mouth like soft bubbles popping over his head. He gazed at the mid-morning light coming in through the window, shining off Harry's ruffled curls, still unruly from sleep. Harry pulled Louis closer to him, sliding his arm up Louis' arm and over his head. He spun him around, Louis finally joining in on the silly dance when Harry tilted his head to the side and sang "Here comes the sun, do do do dooooo..."

They were squished together a bit, the small space between the old wooden set of drawers that Harry used as an island and the counters. Their bodies pressed closer together in their dance, Louis wearing only Harry's baggy navy sweatshirt and Harry wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweats that hung low on his hips. Louis giggled into Harry's neck and as the ending faded into the next song, Harry encircled Louis into his arms.

Something hummed over the speaker, Harry letting his huge grin fade into a soft, half smirk. He slowed their pace, matching the notes from the guitar. When the chorus swelled, Louis tucked his head under Harry's chin and slightly pressed his toes on top of Harry's. They swayed softly to the music; Louis felt the vibrations of Harry humming the lyrics on the top of his head.

As the music started to fade, Harry leaned back, placing a soft kiss against his forehead and sliding his fingers over the skin exposed from the drooping neckline of the hoodie. The pads of his fingers traced over two circular marks at the base of Louis' neck – fresh red fading into a bluey purple.

"Pretty dark, these." He mumbled, distracted by Louis' quickening pulse under his fingertips.

"Good thing I brought a turtleneck then." Louis shrugged. Harry experimentally pressed down onto the love bites. Louis bit his lip, the start of a soft moan fell from his lips, barely able to be heard over the music. Harry hummed low in his throat.