• 19.7 ~ Hold My Breath
“In case you missed it, I pretty much humped you just a few days ago.” Louis kept all inflection out of his tone. “And after that, you think I’m straight?” In the light of a streetlamp, Harry’s eyes were of a cloudy grey, his frown stark.
“You were high.”
“Being high was what gave me the courage. I’ve been wanting to do that since I met you.” Louis drew a rough breath. “You pushed me off.” Harry’s voice caught on a snort, and he shifted his weight, crossing his arms.
“I’m not your gay experiment, Louis. I’m not doing that to myself, and just because I happen to be your gay friend doesn’t mean you can expect me to- no.” He paused, voice dipping down. “Also, I popped a stiffy. So. Like, what else was I supposed to do?” Harry had been- Oh God, oh. Harry had been hard. Harry also thought he was an experiment to Louis.
“Experiment?” Still slightly distracted, Louis shook his head. “My gay experiment? You?” Even with the words ringing in his ears, it took him another second to get past the fact that Harry had been hard, holy shit, and focus on the rest of what Harry had said, the implication that Louis was stringing him along, and yeah. From Harry’s perspective, that made a twisted kind of sense. Except for how it couldn’t be further from the truth. Louis’ stomach throbbed with an abrupt, sharp burst of hope.
“You could never be just an experiment, Harry and I’ve known I’m gay since I was sixteen.”
“You-” Harry cut himself off, and he dropped his arms to his sides, frowning. “No. What? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” His voice rose, not enough to carry, but enough to make a point. “Do you have any idea how much I- All this time I was trying not to fall for you, and, what, did you have a right laugh at me? Did you-” This time, it was Louis’ turn to interrupt.
“You flirted while I was right there.”
“To remind myself I should be looking at anyone but you,” Harry shot back. He raked a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly. When he spoke again, it was a tight whisper, low and rough. “Fuck. Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you trusted me.” Whatever Louis had intended to say died in his chest. Instinct had him reach out and wind a hand in Harry’s t-shirt, fisting the fabric in his fingers to convey, something. Harry’s gaze dropped to where Louis’ knuckles rested against his ribs, and Louis’ body shivered with an imagined breeze.
“I trust you,” he said. His thoughts were a tangled mess, but he tried to get them out all the same. “I trust you, I do, but I don’t talk about it much, and I thought- I thought it didn’t matter. You never made it seem like we could be more than friends, and I’m in the closet, Harry. I am the kind of wuss who gets greedily excited at things like the NFL signing their first openly gay player, because maybe it’ll give someone else in the Premier League the courage to out themselves, and then I can follow in their footsteps. Then I won’t have to be the first.”
“That’s not,” Harry began, and Louis pressed his knuckles in.
“And,” he shaped each syllable carefully, “I thought it was unfair, putting this on you. I thought you deserved better than to be my secret, and I still think you deserve better, but you said you were trying not to fall for me. So are you Harry.” Harry was silent for the time it took a car to pass by on the road, a sudden reminder that they were in public, that anyone could walk by at any given moment and find them like this, might recognize Louis and spread the story. Louis thought about stepping back and didn’t.
“You should have been honest.” Harry’s voice was quiet and serious, his gaze clear on Louis’ face. Louis swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Harry nodded and didn’t look away.
“I thought I didn’t stand a chance, you know and the thing about being your secret, that’s not-” He lifted one shoulder and dropped it again, inhaled on a sigh. “It’s not just your call. It’s mine just as much, and I’d accept that if it meant I got to have you. I’d pay that price. At least if we’re on the same page, if you want us to-”
“I want,” Louis cut in. “I want, yes, I want that very much. I want us.” Harry’s smile broke like the sun through the clouds, like spring tipping into summer.
“Okay,” he said. For all that the word was casual, the way he looked at Louis wasn’t. Louis itched to kiss him, his toes curling with it. He compromised by tucking his thumb into the waistband of Harry’s skinny jeans, brushing against bare skin. “Come home with me?” he asked softly. Harry exhaled in a rush.
“Of course.” Of course. The easy certainty in Harry’s tone and the way he was still smiling, genuine and warm, settled Louis’ heart rate. This was happening. They were missing some answers, quite a few answers, but this was happening. It was definitely, absolutely, decidedly happening.
“Let’s do a different kind of exploring today, yeah?” Louis let his grin show. “Each other, combined with a grand tour of my bedroom, perhaps? If you want, that is.”
“Just the bedroom? Some adventurer you are.” Harry swayed closer, eyes fixed on Louis’ mouth, and if Harry kissed him, then Louis wouldn’t stop it. Jesus Christ, no, he wouldn’t, not when his breath had already caught in his throat, lungs too full. At the last moment, Harry jolted upright. Louis struggled to transform his disappointment into relief. Anyone could walk by, for fuck’s sake. He cleared his throat.
“Well, the bedroom is just the home base, sweetheart.” His voice went soft and quiet on the endearment, and Harry’s smile flashed like lightning. Louis didn’t know why it was that he kept comparing Harry to the weather and the seasons, the sun and the moon and the stars, but he blamed hormones as well as that sticky-sweet feeling in his bones.
“Obviously, you need to establish a solid home base before you branch out. Haven’t you ever watched a documentary on climbing Mount Everest?” Harry’s laugh rippled through the night. Then he stepped back, out of the doorway and onto the road, and Louis’ hand closed around empty air.
“Hey,” he protested. “Get back here right this moment.”
“Less talking, Lou, and more taking me home.” When Harry glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes held a bright challenge. “Or are you nervous?”
“You’re a pest,” Louis told him. Shoving away from the door, he ran to catch up, clasped Harry’s wrist and pulled him along. Laughing, Harry complied.
They kept to different sides of the lift, a calculated gap of space between them in case the porter happened to glance at the security monitors. Already, Louis hated it. As soon as the door to his flat closed behind them, Harry shoved Louis up against the wall, and then they were kissing, kissing, with the night dripping from Harry’s hair and seeping into Louis’ fingertips, kissing until Louis couldn’t taste even a hint of beer anymore, until Harry’s scent had wrapped around him and become his own. He arched his hips off the wall and swallowed Harry’s groan. Through too many layers, the hard line of Harry’s cock pressed into Louis’ hip. Louis ducked out of Harry’s grasp to stumble for the bedroom, took his t-shirt off as he went and didn’t miss how it made Harry’s breath hitch.
“Come on, then,” Louis called back to him, and wow, his voice sounded fucked out even though he had yet to put his mouth on Harry’s dick. It was high up on his list of things to do. “Adventure awaits. Dragons to slay, treasures to find, no rest for the wicked.” With a breathless laugh, Harry followed.
In front of the bed, Louis shucked off the rest of his clothes and turned to find Harry staring at him from the doorway. The headscarf had come loose, leaving Harry’s hair to tumble around his face in loose curls that corkscrewed around his temples. His chest was bare, jeans undone and riding so low they revealed the dark shadow of pubic hair, only just discernible in the dim glow of the city night that seeped in through the windows. Louis wanted him so much he felt momentarily disoriented with it. Still Harry wasn’t moving from his position. Sitting down on the bed, Louis spread his thighs and circled his cock with a lazy hand. In the silent flat, his whisper sounded amplified.
“What are you waiting for, love?”
“Just wondering how much,” Harry’s throat moved as he swallowed, “experience you have. Like, being in the closet. I don’t want to push you?” Fuck, Louis was so in love with him.
“I’m not a virgin,” he said out loud. “Not that there’s too many of us, but you learn to recognize the signs, so. I’ve been there before.” Whatever else he could have said was cut off when Harry pushed him back onto the bed and crawled on top of him, blanketing Louis’ body with his own. His jeans were rough against Louis’ thighs, grounding this firmly in reality. Louis turned blindly into Harry’s kiss, spread his legs and rolled his hips off the bed to bring Harry closer. He felt on edge already, hot and desperate, and they’d barely even started. If Louis hadn’t given up music in favor of football, he would be composing ballads about the strain in Harry’s biceps where he was holding himself up above Louis.
“Not sharing you with anyone else,” Harry told him. “That’s okay, right?” Hell yes. Louis hadn’t even looked at anyone since Harry had thundered into his life. He raised his chin and returned Harry’s look evenly.
“Depends. Will you call that guy from the pub?” It appeared as though Harry needed a moment to even remember what Louis meant. Then he shook his head, dipped close enough for their noses to brush.
“No. I won’t.”
“Then you got yourself a deal.” Louis caught Harry’s mouth for a brief, chaste kiss. Shadows pooled around their bodies, tangled in Harry’s hair and his eyes, but Harry’s smile was bright when Louis said,
“Just so you know, I’ve wanted you since you first walked into the yoga room and took your top off. What’s a guy supposed to do with that? A warning would have been nice, you know.”
“I’ve wanted you since you made that bloody goal against my team and I got a first good look at you on the telly,” Harry countered. He made it sound like a competition, and Louis was so stupidly, stupidly fond of him he could barely see straight. He scratched his nails over the short hair at the nape of Harry’s neck and asked,
“So you only want me for my mad football skills, then? I’m scandalized, Styles.” Harry huffed out a laugh against Louis’ throat before he turned serious, lifting his head to meet Louis’ eyes.
“Really, though, I think I wanted this since our first date. Like, when we went up on Primrose Hill.” The slow, golden sweetness pooling in Louis’ belly was at odds with the heat shuddering through his veins.
“We had a lot of dates, didn’t we?”
“Like maybe fifty,” Harry said with a grin. It was a slight exaggeration, but Louis wasn’t about to protest when Harry chose that moment to press down his hips, delicious friction on Louis’ cock that was just this side of too rough. Running his palm down the length of Harry’s spine, Louis was rudely stopped by the waistband of Harry’s jeans and ineffectually shoved at them with an impatient.
“Off. You can’t very well fuck me with these still on.”
“So I’m gonna fuck you?” Harry didn’t leave time for a reply before he gave Louis’ bottom lip a light tug with his teeth and drew back. A husky edge defined his words. “Fine with me. How do you like it?” Louis reclaimed Harry’s mouth and simultaneously wrapped his legs more tightly around Harry’s waist, pulling him down. Fuck, yes.
“I,” he said, as soon as he could breathe again, “am a bossy bottom and a thorough top. Oh, and-” He gave Harry a serene smile. “-I can also be very patient if the situation calls for it. If I were to deny you an orgasm, for example.” Harry sucked in a gasp, hips stuttering against Louis’ crotch. Fascinating. Louis was going to have so much fun with this.
“What about you?” he asked. It took a moment for Harry’s eyes to focus.
“What about me?”
“What do you like? Apart from orgasm denial, I mean.” Harry’s lips curved up into a broad grin, features blurred by a combination of darkness and proximity, and Louis couldn’t wait to do this in broad daylight, sunlight painting Harry’s skin bronze as Louis followed the lines of Harry’s body. There were so, so many things Louis couldn’t wait to do with Harry, and feeling Harry move inside of him would be a good start.
“I’m a slutty bottom,” Harry said, no trace of embarrassment in his tone, his grin gleaming. “And a generous top.” Shit, Louis was never going to let Harry out of this bed. Too bad about Harry’s job, really. He’d have to maintain his flexibility by having a whole lot of bendy sex with Louis. Since that might sound just a tad obsessive, Louis settled for returning Harry’s grin.
“Prove it, then. Treat me right.”
“I intend to.” Harry’s tone made it clear he was talking about more than just this moment. Louis reached up to run a finger down the bridge of Harry’s nose and finished with it resting on Harry’s bottom lip, Harry watching him intently.
“Hey,” Louis said, barely more than a whisper. His lungs expanded on a deep breath. “Hey. I’m so in love with you. Just thought I’d make that clear.” Harry exhaled in a rush, then turned his head to press a kiss to Louis’ palm.
“Same. I’m in love with you too. Very much so.” Louis fucking loved his life. Catching Harry’s mouth for a deep, thorough kiss, he closed his eyes and let himself fall.