something really quick. in a bit of a writing rut, so i'm very relieved that this even came out coherently.
***
"You are just so..." Harry trails off, eyes wandering over your face as you stand trapped between his arms, your back against the counter, senses filled with your boyfriend and nothing else. It's seven in the morning and having to live with someone you love waking up early has completely ruined your routine of sleeping in till well past 9, and now getting up at this time is the new normal for you. It took a while to adjust, your frantic smacks against Harry's frame as you tried to desperately grab onto something to bring him back to bed, moving onto the loud showering (seriously, how could someone shower so loud?), to finally the reluctant rubs against your eye as you accepted your fate as an early riser now. It's all his fault, but by the grin on his face as he steps a bit closer, you know he doesn't feel the slightest bit guilty.
"Say it," you murmur, placing your hands on his chest, propping yourself up a bit more. "I'm what?"
"That's the thing," he says back in an equally low, steady voice. "I don't know the word to describe you." He bends down and trails his lips silently over your cheek, ticking the skin until it forces a laugh out of you. Your fingers grab onto the material of his chest, trying to push him away. He smells like his wonderful aftershave and toothpaste, warming your heart. You'd originally smelled the tea he was making before you came downstairs, but now it's all him.
"Stop it!" you laugh, shoving him away, but he's too strong to be moved. "Harry stop or I'm going to knee you."
A small puff of air leaves his mouth as he drops his head to your shoulder. "Don't," he says quietly, shaking his head shyly. "Don't say that."
You know he doesn't mean your threat. "Say what?"
"My name," he whines a bit. "Don't like it. Say somethin' else. The other stuff you say."
"I only say pet names when I like you."
His head shoots up, hurt in his eyes. "What have I done to make you upset with me? It's only bloody 7 in the morning. Too early to be pissed off, you dolt."
"You tickled me!"
"And I'll do it again if you don't start being nice to me." He pinches your waist, grumbling something else you don't catch. His hands leave the counter, now resting on your hips, bringing you closer as he nuzzles your neck, his nose causing more giggles to fall from your mouth. Your eyes squeezes shut, desperately pushing him away. "H-Harry! You know I'll pee if you keep tickling me--"
"What was that?"
"B-Baby! Stop! It's too much!"
At the sound of the sweet pet name, he pulls away, not enough to stop breathing in your air, but enough to place his lips on your cheek, gently kissing. He inhales the scent of your face wash, basking in the softness of your skin, and his hands itch to touch all your soft places, but he reminds himself that it's only 7, and too early to be acting as if he's not touched you for days. His lips drag over to the bridge of your nose, noticing your eyes are still shut, but smiling at the way you bite your lip in anticipation when his kisses continue over your face. No inch is left untouched by his tenderness, caressing each bump, discoloration, sign of sleepiness with his mouth with the softest of pressure.
He notices your breath increase just a little bit when his kisses dip down to the corner of your mouth, and you immediately crane your neck to catch that kiss, but he shifts away, moving further down to your chin. Disheartened, you open your eyes, but he avoids looking into them. He moves back up, but to your great sadness, he only pecks your cupid bow before gently maneuvering your head to the side to continue displaying his affection to the other side of your face. He chuckles softly when you huff, releasing his shirt, looping your arms around his waist. He's wearing the pajama set you'd given him last Christmas, and the threads were becoming loose, material stretching out in some places. He'd like another for Christmas wouldn't he? Did people give gifts on Halloween?
You tilt your head up when he's finishing kissing your other cheek, bringing his mouth back down to your jaw, but instead of placing his lips firmly on yours, he uses his hand to push your head to the side to kiss your ear.
"Just kiss me," you sigh, wanting to stomp your foot impatiently. "My ear's gotten enough attention."
"So needy," he comments, clearly smug. Harry's mouth finally stops near yours, and the hand that holds your jaw cups your cheek, drawing you in in one motion, stamping his lips to yours. If you hadn't been holding onto him so tightly, you would have been a mess of a puddle on the floor by his feet, but that's what it felt like anyway. Everything he did reduced you to that state, so it's a wonder it didn't literally happen right now. He kisses your bottom lip gently, taking his time. Most mornings consist of him grabbing his coffee and pressing a chaste kiss to your hair before departing, but today he's taking his time. His hand on your waist moves to your back to rub it, and his thumb caresses the bridge of your nose as he kisses you.
When he pulls away, it entices a whimper out of you, but Harry doesn't rush to ridicule you, delighted by the sound instead. There's no rush. He kisses you once more before laying his lips on your forehead, sighing.
It doesn't seem like enough, your mind argues, so you lunge forward and embrace him tightly, joining your hands behind his back to ensure he doesn't leave. If you could read his mind, however, you'd know that leaving is the last thing he wants.
He never wants to leave you, in any sense. He doesn't want to leave when you're at the airport with him, squeezing his hand every few minutes to ease his anxiety about leaving you so soon. He doesn't want to leave when you're handing him his coffee and sending him out the door. He doesn't want to leave when it's 5 in the morning and you're clinging to him, murmuring, "Please, don't go. Just...just wanna sleep for a little bit more." He doesn't want to leave when you're in the room with him and Jeff as they go over his schedule for the month, and he knows you're calculating in your head how much time you have to spend with him.
This thought alone makes his heart suddenly palpitate and he holds you just as fiercely, one hand cradling your head, and the other around your waist, tucking your face into his shoulder. The sweatshirt you wear rises a bit at the intensity of his embrace, but you don't mind the cold morning air. Not if you've got Harry to keep you warm.
Harry mumbles into your hair, "I love you. Do you know that?"
You can't help but laugh softly. "I do know that."
"But do you know how much?"
Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips against your bare shoulder. That simple act should tell you how much, but it's not what he's looking for.
"I do, baby."
He shakes his head, jostling yours. He says quietly, "No you don't. You'll never know how much I love you. S'not fair, you know? Spend so much time with me..." he slowly pulls away, cupping your cheeks, "yet you'll never have any idea."
"That's not true. I know how much you love me!" you protest, struggling to speak as he's humorously decided to squish your cheeks together in one hand. His eyes sparkle with happiness.
"Yeah? How much is that, love?"
"Enough to have a boner whenever you see me." You bat his hand away. It's your turn to grin. "Like right now."
"Actually," he corrects you, beaming, "it's a love boner."
"Stop saying that. Just say you wanna screw me."
He laughs. "I mean it! I look at you and poof! It's there! I can't control it. I'm kind of surprised you felt it through the hug though."
"Surprised or embarrassed?"
Harry rolls his eyes, gathering you into his arms again, shaking his head. "Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed about the way I show my love to you?"
"You show your love through your boners?" you snicker, voice muffled against his sweater, holding him tightly.
His chest rumbles with laughter, delivering a swift, gentle kiss to your hair. "Exactly. So deal with it."
"Oh, I will."
