Fine Line || L.S.

Something That I Used to Feel

Louis and Harry were sitting on their couch, the TV playing lazily in the background. Louis was leaning against one arm of the couch and Harry was against the other, their legs tangled. Harry was holding a paperback copy of The Fountainhead, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and Louis was beginning to doze off.

Harry looked at Louis over the top of his book and smiled slyly, putting his bookmark in the book and setting it down on the floor. He sat up and slowly crawled towards Louis, waking him with a soft kiss.

"Hey," he whispered.

Louis opened his eyes slowly, blinking, confused but smiling, "Hey."

As they kissed, the kisses became sloppier, heavier, and Louis began to trail kisses down Harry's neck, lifting his shirt over his head, making his way down to the waistband of his joggers. Harry took hold of the bottom of Louis's shirt and began to take it off him, but it got caught on Louis's headband.

"Oops," Harry giggles "it got stuck in your headband."

The two laughed as Louis tried to untangle himself, and, once the shirt and headband were off, Harry pulled him down into a kiss. Louis's hands moved down to Harry's waistband, slowly pulling his pants off him, moving backwards to bring them all the way off his legs.

At this vantage point, kneeling on the couch a few feet away from Harry, Louis was struck by him. He was still everything he wanted.

"Lou," Harry blushed beneath him, attempting to hide he fluster with belligerence, "just get on me already."

Louis took off his pants clumsily and was on top of Harry again in no time. Louis pushed his hips gently down and against Harry's, Harry's hips bucking to meet him, the friction intensifying.

Harry's hand moved between the two, palming Louis's member from over his boxers. The feeling made Louis break the kiss, dropping his head by Harry's shoulder, his breath catching.

"Fuck," he whispered, and Harry pulled down his boxers all the way and switched positions with Louis. He positioned himself on Louis's lap and kissed him, beginning to grind slowly on Louis's crotch. Louis could feel Harry's getting harder through his boxers and moved to take them off as quickly as possible.

Getting Harry's boxers off, however, was a bit more complicated, and required a brief intermission from those activities that were making them both feel so great—Harry stood in front of the couch while he and Louis both tried to rip off his boxers. Once they were off, Harry was again on Louis's lap, the two smiling through the kisses.

"Do you need me to stretch—"

"No, do you have lube?" Harry interrupted him, feeling like he might go crazy from the building pressure.

"Yeah, there's some in that table, right?"

Harry was off him, looking hurriedly through a drawer of their coffee table. No lube.

"There's none in here," he sighed. "Why isn't there any in here?"

"Shit, I must have moved it to our room," Louis said. He was so hard it hurt, and Harry scurrying around naked, looking for lube, made it no better.

"Let's just go to the bedroom," Louis said, "come on."

Cupping their junk, the two made their way to their bedroom. Once there, Louis sat down at the head of the bed after taking lube from their bedside table and welcoming the feeling of Harry's thighs around his hips again.

Harry watched him as he slicked himself up with lube and then steadied himself above Louis. Harry sank down around him, and the feeling tightened Louis's stomach intolerably. He wanted nothing more than Harry to move—quickly, maybe a little roughly.