Foto bij • 15.7 ~ No Simple in Loving You

Part 7

Two weeks later, Louis' being dragged into the familiar storage closet and then it's dark and there are lips on his and he doesn't even have time to think, he just pushes into it with all of the desperation he's been feeling for the past month. Their teeth clink together and his lips are already bruised from the force of it, but Louis just grips onto Harry's collar, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He can't breathe but he doesn't care because Harry's kissing him and it feels like it's been fucking years.
      “What-” Louis breathes out, still pressed up against Harry's lips, but he's interrupted by Harry's tongue, snaking into his mouth and his question wasn't really important anyway. Louis moans into the kiss, a little high-pitched noise, and he grasps at Harry's neck, probably leaving marks across his skin. Harry doesn't seem to mind, hoisting him up and turning them to push Louis back against the closed door. When Harry eases off just a bit, Louis thinks maybe he'll cry, needing the pressure on his lips to feel sane.
      “Can I suck you off?” Harry asks roughly before pressing back into the kiss. Louis' eyes roll back and he still feels like he may cry, but in a different way now. His heart is about to explode in his chest, he's sure of it.
      “Harry,” he breathes out roughly, trying to find some sort of center, something to keep himself grounded, but there are fingers on his trousers now, unclasping them and pushing them down to his thighs and Louis doesn't know when he got so hard, but he is now, desperate to be touched.
      “Gonna- gonna suck you,” Harry says again, biting at Louis' lips as he tries to pull away. He falls to his knees so quickly that Louis feels dizzy as his boxers are pulled down and there's a wet mouth swallowing his cock and he nearly falls over, but he grips onto Harry's shoulders tightly, releasing a shuddering whine. It lasts about three minutes. Louis’ knees buckle and he claws at Harry’s shoulders, slamming his head back into the door as Harry keeps him up with a strong grip and then he's coming, crying out and shaking all over as he does and maybe he's actually crying, too. When Harry pulls off, sitting back, Louis' chest is heaving as he gasps in air and, yes, he's crying. His cheeks are wet and more tears are spilling over and it's all too much. He should feel mortified, but Harry stands and kisses him and murmurs into his lips and he doesn't feel embarrassed, just feels relieved. He eventually calms down, his breath stabilising and his tears drying as Harry holds him, pressing soft kisses all over his neck and face, over any bit of skin he can find.
      “Sorry,” he mumbles, lips resting against Harry's jaw. “Got a little intense there.”
      “Yeah, sorry,” Harry answers sheepishly, ducking his face into Louis' neck. “I just, fuck, just wanted you so bad. I shouldn't have done that. We were being so good.”
      “You shouldn't have,” Louis agrees quietly. “I'm so glad you did, though.” The longer they stand there, the more Louis is aware that they've left Lidia alone out there and they need to get back, but it's so nice here in the dark. When Louis kisses Harry again, it's softer, more controlled, and their breath is still heavy and loud in the small space, but it's calmer as they alternate between soft kisses and just breathing against each other.
      “You alright?” Harry asks, nudging his nose against Louis' cheekbone before kissing him there, too.
      “Yeah, fine, just wasn't expecting and it took the wind out of me a bit.”
      “Sorry,” Harry says again, pulling Louis into a warm hug, his lips resting at the crook of Louis' neck. “It was okay, though?”
      “Yeah, it was okay. Very okay.” Louis runs his hands down Harry's back and over his hips and that's when he notices that Harry's trousers are loose around his waist, unbuttoned at the front.
      “Did you come?” Louis asks curiously. In the dark, he couldn't see, but now he realises Harry was probably wanking himself as he sucked Louis off.
      “Yeah, when you came,” Harry sighs, squeezing him around his waist.
      “Can I clean you up?” he asks, fingers playing at the waistband of Harry's boxers. “Before we go back out there?” Harry shivers just enough for Louis to feel it and he smiles, turning them so Harry's back is pressed against the door. He drops to his knees and pushes Harry's shirt up enough so he can press his lips to his stomach, just above his boxers.
      “Lou,” Harry whispers, dropping a hand to his head and cradling his neck as Louis kisses across his toned stomach, lips bumping into the fabric of his boxers. “I'm gonna get hard again.” It's more of a warning than anything, but Louis doesn't really care. He pulls the boxers down and lowers his lips until they drift over a splatter of come on his skin near the base of his cock. He licks it away slowly, licks all around his growing erection, cleaning the drops of come away from his skin. Finally, he focuses in and gently takes the head of Harry's cock between his lips, humming contentedly. He's always loved sucking Harry, loves how perfectly he fits between his lips. He loves the smell, manly but clean, and he loves how much Harry loves it.
      “Louis,” Harry whimpers above him, fingers digging into his hair just enough for him to feel it. Louis lowers down the length, sucking him so lightly, just cleaning him up, and then he pulls back to speak.
      “D'you want to come again?” Harry pauses for a moment, fingers still rubbing against Louis' scalp until he finally speaks nervously.
      “What if- I don't know if this is it or- but what if we waited until close? Will you still want to then?” Louis smiles, kissing Harry's hip and pulling his boxers back up to cover him. Standing, he finds Harry's face with his hands and pulls him down to kiss him yet again, making up for not kissing him for so long.
      “Yeah, I'll still want to,” he nods into the kiss. “But I don't want to fall back into anything, so maybe we should have some rules? Like, only here maybe? Not at each other's flats?” Harry takes a deep breath and nods, too, whispering,
      “Yeah, okay, good,” against Louis' lips.
      “And I think- maybe just- like, only handjobs and blowjobs?” Louis stumbles to say, not knowing how to say that if he gets his cock inside Harry's arse, he'll sink too fast and he'll never be able to stay away after that.
      “Yeah, alright, so no fucking,” Harry confirms, sounding much less awkward than Louis. As always.
      “Yeah,” Louis says again, nodding. They're silent for a moment, just touching, until Harry sighs loudly and announces that they need to get back out there and Louis is already fairly convinced he's going to be fired for being gone so long. So they get their trousers done up and adjust their shirts as well as they can in the dark before they step out into the dimly lit hallway and Louis gets his first glimpse of Harry's swollen pink lips and flushed cheeks. He groans, immediately looking away because it's not fucking fair.
      “What?” Harry asks, confused, dropping a hand to rub Louis' hip and stepping closer.
      “How am I supposed to get over you when you look like that?” Louis mumbles, chancing another peek at Harry's face, meeting his eyes. Harry bites his pink lip as he searches Louis' face, then he looks from side to side quickly before he pushes Louis back up against the wall and kisses him again, long and heavy.
      “I've given up on getting over you,” he says lowly before kissing him once more and turning away, back toward the bar. Louis stays there, finding his breath for a minute and using the wall to keep him standing. Because this is not a good idea, probably. You can't break up with someone and keep kissing them and blowing them and expect everything to work out alright, but rationality can go fuck itself, he thinks. There's no way he can stop now.


It sort of does work, though. Or maybe Louis is just trying to convince himself that what they're doing isn't unhealthy and destructive, but it feels okay to him. They have stolen kisses and mind-blowing orgasms and fun. They have fun together again because they don't have to worry about keeping themselves in check so much, they can touch without panicking over it. They laugh and spray water at each other and it feels a lot like the way they were even before they started dating. Except now they get each other off and maybe sometimes Harry accidentally slips, whispering `I love you´ between post-blowjob kisses and Louis nods, whispering `yeah´ in return. It's probably teetering on the edge of inappropriate, but Louis has most of the stuff he loved about being with Harry without meeting the family and talking about the future. There are things he still misses, though. He misses having Harry in his bed, falling asleep next to him and waking up next to him. He misses their dates, when Harry would drag Louis along to some terrible open mic poetry night and he'd stifle his laughter through overly dramatic hipster teens pouring their hearts out on a little stage in the corner of a coffee shop. He misses Harry calling him late at night and he misses Harry singing to him during those calls, sort of like he didn't realize he was doing it, just distracted notes and words falling from his lips and making their way into Louis' ear. God, he misses that, but what he has is good enough. He has Harry's hand in his pants and he has Harry's lips on his and it's enough to keep him happy. It's so, so good. It's good for about a month anyway, and then Harry's mouthing needily at his neck after close one night, fingers wrapped around him, stroking until Louis thinks he's going to lose his mind and that's when he says it.
      “Want you to fuck me.” Louis' mind does a short circuit thing because just hearing Harry say that makes his dick twitch and he wants it so fucking badly, but there are rules for a reason and Louis has to wait a long moment to remember those reasons, to clear his mind enough to think.
      “Rules,” he says because full sentences are difficult with Harry's fist gripping his cock. “No fucking.”
      “Lou, please,” Harry begs, a husky whine in his voice. “I think about it all the time. I go home after I've been with you and I get my fingers inside myself, just thinking about how you felt, but it's not the same. Need to feel you, please.” Louis shudders at the mental image of Harry fingering himself, thinking about him. Maybe he even whispers Louis' name when he makes himself come. It all makes Louis buck into Harry's hand, dropping his head back because he wants to see that so badly and as Harry whispers `please´ again, Louis thinks maybe he could see it.
      “Show me,” he whispers, bringing his head back up to look into Harry's eyes. “Will you? Show me?” Harry seems to be equally excited and disappointed because Louis hasn't agreed to fuck him, but this is something. He lets go of Louis' cock and gets himself undressed in a flash, hopping up on the bar counter and Louis is really glad he just cleaned it. He has a packet of lube in his hand that he must have had in his pocket and Louis wonders if he always keeps it on hand or if he was hoping before he even came to work that Louis would fuck him tonight. The idea sends a shiver down his spine. When Harry gets his fingers slick, he props his feet up on the counter, spread out so Louis can see everything and now he realises what a bad idea this was. Because his whole body is thrumming with need, screaming with desire and he wants to touch where Harry is touching, wants to press his own fingers to Harry's hole and feel how hot he is there.
      “Louis,” Harry moans, a choked off whine as he pushes a finger inside, the digit disappearing into his pretty arse. Louis has to grip the counter next to Harry's bum to keep himself upright. As Harry loosens himself up and gets a second finger inside, Louis actually hurts from being so hard and so desperate. He feels sort of drunk, his mind fuzzy and thoughts blurred.
      “Lou, please fuck me, please,” Harry moans, two fingers deep inside himself. Louis can't not touch anymore, can't keep himself away, so he leans down and kisses just below Harry's balls, earning a broken cry as Louis moves his lips down to where Harry's fingers are moving inside himself. He licks his tongue out where Harry's fingers are stretching his rim, teasing the sensitive skin as the beautiful boy perched on the counter fucks himself faster and faster. Harry continues to beg, desperate pleas escaping with his heavy breaths and Louis' painfully hard cock can't be ignored any longer.
      “Yeah, okay, yeah,” he breathes, pressing one last kiss to Harry's rim before standing upright again. “There's a blanket. I think.” He steps back and opens a little cabinet where they keep odds and ends and he produces a fleece blanket, laying it out on the floor behind the bar. When he looks up, Harry's still got his fingers inside himself and Louis steps over to touch Harry's wrist.
      “Come on, down here,” he says, watching as Harry finally pulls his slick fingers out. He drops down off the counter quickly, knees wobbly as he lands, and Louis cracks a smile through his lust. He helps Harry onto his back and pushes his knees up to spread him out. It's not until Louis is kneeling between Harry's legs that he realises one crucial thing.
      “Fuck,” he mutters, glancing from Harry's slicked up hole to his face. “Please tell me you have a condom.” He nods quickly, though, reaching over to where his jeans are crumpled on the floor and pulling a condom from the pocket. Louis breathes out, relieved, and takes the foil package from Harry's hand. As he opens it, he can't help but smile a bit.
      “You certainly came prepared, didn't you?” He asks quietly, smirking a bit as he flicks his eyes up to Harry's, then back down to his hands, rolling the condom onto himself.
      “Shut up,” Harry mutters, half-grumpy and half-needy. “Been wanting this for weeks.” Louis doesn't even have to ask for the lube before Harry holds up the half-empty packet and Louis takes it, kissing the inside of Harry's knee where it's bent in the air. He lubes himself quickly, trying not to focus on the pleasure of his hand smoothing the substance over his cock because he's so fucking desperate for this that he might just come before he gets inside.
      “Me too,” he whispers. And he has. He's been thinking about it, wanking to memories of Harry's tightness and the beautiful noises he would make when Louis got in deep and the way his eyes would flutter as Louis moved inside him, but now he's going to have it again and he lines himself up, swallowing down the emotion that comes with having Harry on his back in front of him, ready to take him. He's actually so in love with this boy it hurts.
      “Ready?” He asks, just to be sure.
      “Yeah, please,” Harry responds, arching his back momentarily in anticipation. Louis nods, taking a deep breath, and pushes in slowly, gritting his teeth as he pushes past Harry's rim and feels that familiar warmth pressing in on him. Harry's fingers fumble at Louis' arms, finding a grip and pulling him down as Louis bottoms out, pressed nice and tight against Harry's arse. He dips his head down to meet Harry's lips and, before they kiss, Harry whispers a `thank you´ so coated with emotion that Louis doesn't know what to do with it. So he just kisses him, hoping Harry can feel it in his lips, all the things he wants to say. He starts moving his hips slowly and Harry has to drop his head back, releasing Louis' lips as the thrusts get longer and heavier. He'd almost forgotten how good it was, how good Harry felt and how amazing he looked when Louis was inside him. Like Louis could do anything to him and Harry would trust him the whole way. As he fucks in, his mind is cloudy and light and Harry's whispering his name over and over and Louis can't for the life of him remember why this is against the rules. Nothing could be more important than this. He wants to draw it out, make it last, but he already knows this isn't the last time. It can't be. So, he speeds up his movements because he's so close and he needs it. Reaching down to grip Harry's dripping cock, he strokes evenly with his thrusts, wanting Harry to get there first.
      “You look so good,” Louis breathes out, mind gone as he fucks and tugs and searches Harry's face, seeing a tear slide down from the corner of his eye from squeezing them so tightly shut. “Never should have been not fucking you, god.” Harry whimpers and Louis can feel his muscles tightening up, squeezing his cock so tightly his vision goes dark at the feeling, but then Harry's fingers are digging into his shoulder, nails biting his skin, and he's coming. Louis rocks into him, fucking him through it, and Harry's body is jerking below his and Louis' so gone that Harry has to reach down to still his hand where he's still stroking him. He comes then, with Harry's hand wrapped over his on Harry's spent cock and he drops his head onto Harry's chest as he releases, moaning Harry's name once because it's all for him, really, all of it. When he's finished, he stays there for a long moment, face buried in Harry's chest and lungs working overtime as his body tingles with the leftover energy of his climax. Finally, he pulls out and dazedly removes the condom, tossing it into the bin next to them, making a note to himself to make sure it's not still there when they leave. As they lay side by side, sweaty and breathing heavily, Louis surprises even himself when he suddenly laughs, roughly from his dry throat, and curls into Harry's body, tucking his face into his shoulder as he chuckles. Because fucking Harry is just that good. Good enough to make Louis smile so hard he laughs. They spend an hour talking. Not really about anything deep and meaningful, just talking and touching and occasionally kissing, and it's the best Louis has felt in a long time. There's so much about Harry that he loves and the past month has been great, but they haven't really had anything like this since they were properly together. Laying naked together and talking and laughing and being hopelessly, stupidly in love.
      “Do you remember the first thing I said to you?" Harry asks after a short silence and, yeah, Louis remembers. Always remembers that.


When they've finally hauled themselves up from the floor and gotten dressed and Louis has flushed the used condom and they're walking to the door, he stops suddenly, pulling Harry in. Because he deserves to know, deserves to hear it, and Louis hasn't said the actual words since the night they ended it.
      “I love you so much,” he whispers, looking up into Harry's eyes so he can see that he means it. Harry freezes for a moment like he's holding his breath and then dips his head, eyes glittering until they disappear behind his eyelids and they kiss slowly and deeply, the way people in love ought to kiss. And maybe Louis isn't ready to jump back into a relationship, not ready to meet families and talk about the future, but he thinks he will be. He'll get there, he'll figure it out. Until then, he'll hold onto what they have because what they have, well. It's pretty fucking amazing.

It's everything, really.


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  • kaleidoscoop


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