Take Me Down Slow (Larry Stylinson)

The 'Talk'

Louis sits on the lid of the toilet, scrolling through their group chat on his phone as steam swirls around the en-suite, Harry humming some tune he can't decipher over the sound of the shower.

A message catches his attention. "Oh my god. Liam met someone at the airport!"

The glass squeaks as Harry rubs a circle on the shower screen, wide eyes coming into view, hair matted against his cheeks and water cascading off the end of his nose.

"Wait. What did you say?"

"Liam. He met an Omega called Kayla. At the airport. Niall had to physically drag him away. Oh, this is too good."

"Seriously? That's awesome."

"Niall says he was a smitten kitten. Bless his cotton socks."

Harry shuts off the water, tugging his towel down from the top of the stall and stepping out onto the mat. "That's nice, though. Good for him," Harry says as he starts to dry himself. Louis is trying to type a message in response, but it's hard to stay focused when Harry's all naked and glistening and just there in front of him.

He decides to just send a simple, 'Get in!', with a string of dirty emojis and locks his phone. That'll do for now.

Harry wraps the towel around his waist. His v-line is obscene. Louis will have to remember to lick it at some point, maybe decorate it with some artfully placed bruises.

Harry reaches out his hand and Louis stares for a minute before grasping it, standing and trailing behind Harry into the bedroom. So they're doing the hand-holding thing now, apparently. Okay. Louis can get onboard with this. It's nice actually. Just not something he's used to.

Harry guides him to the lounge, a small coffee table set up with a tray of cups, a sugar bowl and a small jug of milk. "I'll make us something to eat and then we can chat, yeah?"

Louis feels small, young, nervous. He nods and sits down, tucking his legs underneath his bum, and stretching out the sleeves of his shirt to cover his hands. Harry's got the temperature perfect, cool but not cold, and the sun is peeking around the corners of the thick curtains, casting beams of light into the room. It's still the middle of the day but it'll be dark soon, the storm not far away based on the radar image Liam had sent through.

Harry pads over to the kitchenette, getting the kettle on to boil and poking around in the cupboard for some bowls and a packet of biscuits.

Louis watches him, his easy movements a contrast to the normally clumsy and jittery state Louis is used to seeing him in. He seems calm, in his element even.

Harry opens a couple of packets of noodles, tearing at the seasoning and little sachets of dried veggies with his teeth, adding them to the bowls and humming contentedly as he waits for the water.

Louis is in a bit of a daze, still not entirely believing what has transpired in the last few hours. His eyes are trained on the gorgeous man pottering around domestically just a few meters away. It won't be long before his arousal phase starts and he wonders what it will be like to have someone there with him, through it all, keeping him safe and cared for. Someone to help him and meet his needs. Harry is so loving and generous, he's excited to see how different this heat will be.

Harry goes to his duffle bag and squats down, digging around for some clean sweats and a tank top. Louis can see his broad back, still damp, muscles flexing. His movements are relaxed and Louis finds it all delectably mesmerizing. He snaps out of his haze as Harry stands and unwraps his towel, completely unabashed, laying it over the top of the dresser to dry. He steps into the legs of his sweats, quads, and hamstrings taking his weight as his alternates from one foot to the other and pulls the pants up over his arse. No briefs. Good man.