From The Heart (Larry Stylinson)

Entertain Me

1 month later

Louis sits in his chair in the coffee house, the sun streaming through the window and warming his skin. It's the same as all those other Tuesdays, except now, he doesn't need to wait until five to eleven for the object of his affection to sweep through the door and light up his world. Tuesday's are still by far and away his favourite day of the week, but the list of reasons has gotten a whole lot longer. Instead of waking up to Snuffy and a lonely breakfast with tea for one, he gets to welcome the new day with the man of his dreams wrapped in his arms.

This morning Harry had stirred Louis from his slumber with one of his earth-shattering blow jobs and then spooned him, fucking into him slowly, still open and loose from the night before as he whispered sweet adorations and toe-curling filth into his ear. A long, languid soak in the tub, with accompanying massages in the hot, steamy bathroom followed, only brought to an end by Snuffy's insistent meowing and scratching at the door, his patience for breakfast having dissipated along with their bath bubbles.

They'd sat in Louis' garden, enjoying the sunshine and crisp air as Snuffy played happily with the butterflies that flitted around the lavender and rosemary bushes. They ate their croissants and drank their tea, chatting about the day ahead and not for the first time, Louis was overwhelmed by how lucky he truly felt that fate had decided to bring them together.

Louis glances over when he hears Harry chatting with Mildred as he ties the cords of his apron in a neat bow across his waist. Louis blinks and an image flashes behind his eyelids from last night; Harry laying on the bed, writhing with pleasure, as Louis sucked a string of bruises just below his belly button while he'd stroked Harry's cock in his hand. Louis wonders whether Harry can still feel them. Did he have to tie his apron more loosely because of them? Does he feel them when he laughs and clenches his stomach muscles? Does he get a jolt of pleasure because of them? Can he feel the ghost of Louis' lips still on him?

His wandering mind is recalled as a notification goes off on his phone. Eleven o'clock on the dot, like always. A hint of something like sadness prods at the edges of his mind as he realizes this will be the last time he does this. He has mixed feelings about the WordPlay challenge ending and about finally wrapping up his little series. It's been quite the rollercoaster; his life now a world away from where it was when he embarked on writing Henry and Lewis' love story.

Louis taps on the notification and opens the post on his phone. Eminent . And. Uhm... okay? The first thing that jumps into his head is Eminent Domain. Which. No? He opens a new Google tab on his laptop and punches it in, just to be sure.

noun: eminent domain

The right of a government or its agent to expropriate private property for public use, with payment of compensation.

Okay, so that's about the least sexy or romantic thing ever, and it's not like he can introduce a government land grab into the series at this stage. Next!

adjective: eminent

1.(of a person) famous and respected within a particular sphere.

2.(of a positive quality) present to a notable degree.

Granted, that's an improvement, but nothing is really jumping out at him. He sits back in his chair and stares out of the window, running the possibilities over in his mind as the sounds of the coffee shop provide a white-noise background for his thoughts.

He's already done the whole Scrabble thing to get around the difficulty in dealing with Zebra as one of the prompts so it's not like he can cheat and use a word game again. If only he'd written Lewis as a writer of non-fiction like himself, an analyst, or a scientist, or a historian, someone that could've been the eminent authority on something. Wait. Did he specify? One of the challenges with writing the series over a long period of time means that he can't always remember the details of what he's put on paper if it isn't critical to the plot. He brings up another google doc tab and opens up the first installment, scanning the pages for where he first talked about Lewis' writing. He doesn't remember delving into it too deeply but then he sees it. Lewis is writing a 'novel'. Well, that blows.