"Stay," Harry whispers desperately, pressing his lips to Louis' temple like he can somehow ease the pain that's blooming there, but he can't make the pain stop and no matter how hard he tries he can't make Louis stay.
-
{not my story}
COMPLETED
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•••
They fuck, because Louis is feeling better than he has in a long time and he's begging for it, grinding down on Harry's crotch and tugging at his shirt, pressing his face into Harry's chest and whimpering desperately. The charms hanging from his neck make a soft jingling sound, like sleigh bells.
So, Harry gives in after making Louis promise to please tell me to stop if you get too tired.
"So pretty," Harry murmurs, hands running through the hair at the base of Louis' scalp, soft and thin and he feels like he's going to go insane if he can't touch Louis one more time. "You're so pretty, baby. Always so pretty for me. Love you so much."
Harry knows he's saying too much, too fast for Louis to completely understand, but Louis doesn't seem to mind. He just arches up into Harry's touch, whimpering, "Yes, yes, more."
Harry feels an ache deep in his heart, because here, propped up above Louis who's squirming and writhing beneath him, gasping sharply when Harry bites at his lip and tilting his head back to expose his throat to Harry like he's just begging for mark him up, it feels like everything might be okay. Or, at the very least, he can pretend.
Louis' been so tired lately, but tonight he's got enough to wrap his arms around Harry's neck, holding himself up while Harry thrusts into him a little too roughly, nipping at his ear with his hand on his cock and it's all over so fast Harry wants to cry, collapsing back on the couch with Louis in his arms, all limp and warm and pliant.
"Happy birthday, baby," Harry mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion and he's too happy to feel anything else right now. "Love you. Love you so much." Louis just hums, nuzzling at Harry's chest with his nose and closing his eyes.
They fall asleep on the couch, basking in the warm glow of Christmas tree lights and the sound of
Frank Sinatra singing have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Christmas is a red day. Harry's heart is in his throat the entire fifteen minutes it takes to get Louis to respond to him, thinking about how he's so used to Louis crawling all over him and squealing, "It's Christmas, it's Christmas, Harry, come on, get up!"
Louis is so weak, is the thing, and Harry wonders if their endeavors the previous night tired him out even more. Probably. His stomach is in knots the entire time, as he makes the Facetime call to Jay and the girls, who unfortunately cannot make it due to the dreadful snow pileup but promise they'll be by to visit before New Year's. Please hurry, Harry thinks but doesn't say anything. Louis can barely say anything, either, and his sisters don't understand this which just makes them talk faster, more overexcited and Louis looks so overwhelmed Harry thinks he might cry.
They spend their Christmas day lying on the couch, watching more Christmas specials. Louis sleeps through most of them. Harry sings Christmas tunes to him all afternoon, but he knows most of them are lost on Louis, who drifts in and out of consciousness every half hour or so.
Harry is a little disappointed - well, he's a lot disappointed, actually, but he doesn't want to admit it to himself because frankly, it sounds a bit selfish.
He just wished their last Christmas together would be happier, is all. Last year, they spent New Year's Eve drunk off their asses, hiding in the dark corners, anywhere out of sight to cop a quick feel and when it struck midnight they had crashed their glasses together and Louis had mumbled, "To another lovely year with my favorite boy."
"The fourth New Year's we've spent together," Harry had laughed, pressing a sloppy, drunk kiss to Louis' chin. "The fourth of many, many more to come."
This year, they spend it in their flat in almost complete silence. The other boys are here, too, and Sophia, because they can't just not invite her. For Christ's sake, she's got Liam absolutely whipped. They're all squished together on the couch, Louis resting across all of their laps and it's nice, having them all here for this.
They're all touching him in some way - Liam's got his arms crossed over Louis' ankles, Zayn is fiddling with the hem of his sweater and tracing little patterns onto Louis' hipbone that make the smaller boy giggle and swat his hand away. Niall has one of Louis' hands in his own, playing with his fingers and periodically making him flip Harry the bird. And Louis' head is in Harry's lap, with Harry carding his hand gently through his hair, grinning sheepishly whenever Louis gets tired and presses his face into Harry's stomach, just to the left of his butterfly tattoo.
When the clock strikes midnight they all cheer, Liam pulling Sophia in for a kiss and Niall trying to hug everyone at once. Louis sits up slowly, blinking at Harry, confused.
"It's New Year's, baby," Harry whispers, grinning and pressing their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Lou. I lo-"
But Louis' lips cut him off, hot and insistent, before he can finish.
