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“Hey! You’re gonna — “ Louis leapt up from his chair, lunging at Harry. “That’s for me!”
Harry shrieked and dodged him, giggling. On a rare unbusy morning, they’d been lounging in their kitchen and eating the chocolates Louis’ mum had sent him. “Give it back!” cried Louis, trying again for the last chocolate in Harry’s hand. Harry twisted in Louis’ grip, eyes sparkling as he switched the chocolate to his other hand and dodged each new attempt by Louis. A new tactic sprang to Louis’ mind, and he pushed Harry backwards, sending him stumbling until his back hit the refrigerator. Pinning him there with his upper body, Louis finally managed to reach for Harry’s hand so he could pry his fingers open.
But Harry’s hand was empty when he found it. In fact, his entire hand was drained of the energy that Louis had felt through his whole body just a moment before. Confused, Louis pulled himself back from Harry. When he was far enough away to focus his eyes, he found Harry’s eyes dark and glassy, staring back at him.
“Haz?” Louis reached out, running a hand down Harry’s arm. The boy in front of him felt pliant, as if Louis could mould him around Louis’ hand. Harry blinked several times, in the same way Louis had seen him try to wake himself up when they were in a hurry. “Haz? What...” he trailed off. Harry’s cheeks were flushed with pink.
“Um,” said Harry, just above a whisper. “Sorry.” He bent down awkwardly, maneuvering between the wall and Louis who still stood quite close. He grabbed the chocolate, still in its wrapper, and straightened up. Louis hadn’t even registered the sound of it falling; he’d been too focused on getting it out of Harry’s hand. “Here’s the chocolate.”
Louis took the chocolate, still disoriented. Sensing Harry’s discomfort, he moved back enough to allow Harry space to step out from between Louis and the wall. Harry did exactly that, moving to Louis’ left and sitting himself on the counter with his eyes towards the floor.
Gently, Louis placed the chocolate on the counter beside Harry. “Uh, Haz?” he tried, taking Harry’s chin in his hand and tilting his face up so their eyes could meet. Louis still couldn’t fully read his face, but he could see discomfort and embarrassment there. His heart clenched. As fast as he could, Louis pushed Harry’s legs apart so he could get close enough to kiss Harry. I love you, he tried to convey, as Louis wrapped his other arm tightly around Harry’s waist. Whatever’s going on, it’s okay. If he’d done something wrong, been the cause of Harry’s discomfort, he’d spend the rest of the week trying to forgive himself.
Pulling back, Louis could see a little more calm in Harry’s eyes. Alright. Sometimes, Louis felt like the boy in front of him was more part of him, rather than a separate being. When Harry was stressed or angry or sad, Louis’ chest got tight too. He couldn’t imagine a universe where his and Harry’s orbits weren’t so overlapping; where his every second thought wasn’t devoted to sweet, flawed, learning, growing, loving Harry. His boy.
“Do we have to talk about it?” asked Harry, in the same near-whisper as before. Louis laid both hands on Harry’s knees, squeezing. Most times, it felt like Harry was older than him. It was only in moments like these when Louis felt his two extra years.
“I mean, no," he responded, "not if you don't want." He took Harry’s right hand and laced their fingers together.
Harry sighed, and Louis watched the flush renew itself on Harry’s cheeks. “S’not, like, that big of a deal,” said Harry. "But, uh — we can."
Louis had been fully prepared to let it drop, but if Harry wanted to talk it out, they would talk it out. “Alright,” he said, “yeah. We won’t — we won’t make it a big deal.” He brought their linked fingers up to his mouth and kissed Harry’s hand. Straightening up, he tried his best to take on a more casual tone. “So, we were having a laugh,” he started, “play-fighting, and I pushed you into the fridge.” Harry nodded.
“And then you went kind of... your body got kind of soft, and you stopped fighting. And then, it got weird.” Harry’s eyes dropped down. “Did I do something wrong?”
Harry snapped back up. “No, no no,” he said all in a rush, eyes wide. “No, Lou, you’re fine.”
Louis felt relieved at that, but his stomach still twisted as Harry fidgeted in front of him. “Alright. So, what happened?”
Harry sighed, the colour of his cheeks deepening further. “M’not entirely sure myself, if I’m honest,” he said.
“No?”
“I, um.” Harry opened his eyes again, and Louis watched them flit about the kitchen, landing on everything but Louis.
Louis’ brow furrowed, trying to piece everything together. He could tell Harry wasn’t saying everything, even if he wasn’t fully sure. “I pushed you against the fridge... Did freak you out? Did I scare you?”
Harry shook his head forcefully. “No, no, Lou, you didn’t — you didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.” He squeezed Louis’ hand. “I dunno,” he said, voice soft. “S’happened a few times before, I think.”
Louis searched his memory rapidly, trying to remember other times he’d felt Harry so suddenly yielding in his hands. A moment, from over a year ago, came to the forefront. They’d been wrestling on the living room floor of the X-factor house, on what must’ve been two or three days before the night Louis’ world turned upside-down (when Harry had boldly placed his own hand on Louis’ hammering heart, whispered I really like you, Louis, and kissed him for the first time). They’d been wrestling, and Louis had finally managed to pin Harry down as the other contestants in the house looked on. One! Two! Three! — they’d chanted, counting up the seconds until Louis won the match. Louis, giddy in the fervor of being so close to the boy he had a life-shattering crush on, had only noticed after five! that Harry had already stopped struggling.
He gave up! I win! Louis had cried, standing up to cheer. Harry had seemed a bit dazed as Louis helped him off the floor, but at the time Louis had written it off as Harry, ever the competitive one, being a sore loser. Louis searched Harry’s face. “It it... something about being — ” Louis paused, unsure. “Does it happen when you’re being... held somewhere? Held down?”
Harry’s face turned impossibly pinker, the flush traveling down his neck as he took an unsteady breath. This, Louis thought with sudden clarity, was finally starting to look familiar. This was a Harry he’d seen in interviews, onstage, or at parties, after Louis had thrown innuendos or dirty whispers his way. “Haz,” he said, “do you like being held down?”
Taking a shaky breath, Harry finally looked Louis in the eyes. “I think so.”
Louis was suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on Harry’s knee. “Yeah?” he breathed, feeling his own breath quicken.
“Yeah.”
The air hung heavy between them, and for a moment they just stayed there. Louis’ mind was racing, trying to figure out his own mind and body’s reaction when Harry started to speak again. “It’s not, uh, s’not just a sexual thing,” he said, voice small. “It’s like, if we weren’t together, and I was hooking up with someone random, it’s not like I would want them to, uh — ”
“Hold you down,” Louis finished, barely believing what just came out of his own mouth.
“Right. S’like, an emotional thing, I think? I’m sorry, I don’t really know...” he trailed off, fiddling anxiously with Louis’ fingers.
“It’s alright, baby, we’re just — we’ll figure it out, yeah?” said Louis. With what Harry had been hinting at, love and wonder for the boy in front of him joined the arousal that was already flowing beneath his skin.
Harry spoke again. “It’s like, I think I like the idea of giving myself to you? I trust you, and so having you control me is...” he trailed off, and Louis watched as he actually shuddered at the idea.
“Oh, baby,” breathed Louis, not knowing where to begin. He wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him to the edge of the counter and pressing his face into Harry’s neck. Even after over a year together, Harry still struck him speechless. He felt Harry’s hands spreading over his back, pulling them even closer together. It made sense, he thought, with the way Harry could be so incredibly pliant when they were together. He went wherever Louis put him. If Louis ever got impatient or gave a command, Harry would be quick to follow it. I’m yours, Harry always told him, and they would both revel in that fact as Louis whispered it back; Mine. It wasn’t that Louis wasn’t Harry’s, also, but they tended to obsess over that less. Louis had learned long ago that sometimes, biting a whisper of mine into Harry's ear was the final push it took to make him come. Louis didn’t make it out unscathed, either. Once he’d nearly blacked out coming, with Harry chanting yours, yours, yours beneath him.
“I’m sorry,” he heard Harry whisper, bringing Louis back to the moment. “It’s weird, I’m sorry, you don’t have to do it or anything — ”
Louis cut him off, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Harry,” he said, hands traveling down to hold Harry’s hips. Suddenly he could scarcely think of anything he wanted more. “I want to.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open sweetly. “Oh,” he said. Green eyes wide and shining.
“Yeah,” said Louis, solidifying it for both himself and Harry. “Definitely.” He moved in to kiss Harry again, but a mind-bending thought stopped him halfway.
“What?” asked Harry, hand coming up to hold the back of Louis’ neck.
“Is there anything, like, else?”
“Else?”
“Like... okay, being held down. Is anything... else? Along with that?” Louis was fairly sure the blush of his cheeks would rival Harry’s by now.
“Oh,” said Harry again. Bolstered, perhaps, by Louis’ newfound reciprocation, he took a deep breath. “I like it when you tell me what to do.”
Louis dug his fingers into Harry’s thighs, reeling. “Shit,” he whispered, more involuntary than not. “Okay. Like... rules? Or just, like — ”
“Rules. Yeah. Everything,” breathed Harry. “Like it when you pull my hair. Fuck, Lou — ”
Louis cut him off, pitching forward to kiss him hard. Their hands were everywhere, flying to hair, hips, arse, back. They kissed like that, too desperate for finesse, until Harry wrapped his legs around Louis’ waist to tug him closer and gasped when Louis’ belly met his crotch. Louis pulled back, unwrapping Harry’s legs with his hands, breathing hard. Get it together, he told himself. He couldn’t hold Harry down in their kitchen.
Still breathing hard, Louis took on the most composure he could scrape up. “Right," he said. "Go upstairs.” He was surprised by the authority in his own voice. Harry let out a little gasp, as though he hadn’t expected Louis to actually do it now. “Go in our room, and sit on the bed. Keep your clothes on.” Harry stared at him, frozen. “And uh, don’t touch yourself,” Louis added, because that seemed like something that someone who knew what they were doing might say.
The last order seemed to shake Harry out of his shock. “Yeah,” he said faintly, and Louis watched in wonder as he slipped down off the counter and out of the room.
Louis slumped against the counter, alone in the kitchen. He listened to Harry’s footsteps as he made his way up the stairs and then into their room. After that it became silent in the house, and Louis realized with a jolt that Harry must be sitting on their bed, exactly as he’d said to do. Oh, god. Head spinning, he took a moment to gather himself. A plan. He should have a plan, he reasoned. Alright. He’d keep it simple. Louis took a deep breath, turned resolutely, and walked upstairs.
Louis found Harry cross-legged near the edge of their bed, and took a moment to look him over. His cheeks were flushed prettily, and there was a light sheen of sweat on him already. There was a noticeable bulge between Harry’s legs, noticeable especially from the tighter joggers he tended to wear around the house. A dream, thought Louis. He looked a dream.
“Stand up.” Harry did, long limbs scrambling so fast that Louis almost moved forward to catch him, should he trip over himself. Harry pulled himself to his full height — the same as Louis, by now — and stared back at him, mouth slightly open. “Take off your clothes,” said Louis.
Louis didn’t ask for a striptease, and Harry didn’t give him one. He shoved his shirt and trousers off, tossing them aside, but hesitated when he reached his pants. “Everything,” said Louis, clarifying.
Harry slid his briefs down his legs, bending at the waist and concealing himself for a moment longer. When he stood up, Louis’ eyes flicked down to his cock. Now it was Louis’ mouth’s turn to drop open: He’d never seen Harry so hard before he’d even kissed him, even touched him. Louis saw Harry shift in embarrassment, and noted with only a little shame how the fidgeting made his own cock twitch.
“So hard already, Haz,” Louis said, eyes raking over his whole body. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and he could hear the little puff of air that came from his lips. Fuck, this boy would wreck Louis. “D’you want me to touch you?”
Harry nodded vigorously. Louis chuckled. “How about some words, baby?”
Harry’s eyes flew open. Louis realized dumbly that Harry must not have been talking, because Louis hadn’t told him to talk. Shit. Now, words tumbled from Harry’s mouth. “Yes, please touch me Lou.”
“Lie on the bed,” instructed Louis, and Harry spun around, stumbled, and laid himself face-up on Louis’ side of their bed. His cock, fully exposed, stood up obscenely. Louis was reminded of his own clothes and pulled his jumper over his head, but kept his shirt and trousers on. There was something about the contrast between a naked body and one fully clothed that felt right, for what Harry had asked for. For what they both wanted.
Louis walked to the bed and settled next to Harry, carefully arranging himself so he knelt by Harry’s right side. In their first contact since the kitchen, Louis ran his fingers feather-light over Harry’s chest. “There you go, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to Harry’s ear. “Touching you.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Lou — ” he said, but Louis placed a hand over his mouth.
“No talking, baby, unless you need me to stop,” said Louis. That, or maybe Louis’ hand over his mouth, earned Louis a quiet moan. “Nod if you understand.” Wildly turned on as he was, a pocket of his brain was anxious; terrified of going too far or hurting Harry. It was a small relief when Harry nodded back, eyes wide.
“Good,” said Louis, trying not to betray his nerves. He took his hand off Harry’s mouth, and instead ran it through his hair. “No sounds, either.” He tightened his fingers in Harry’s hair, mesmerized by the way it made his eyes roll back.
Louis loosened his grip on Harry’s hair, but kept his hand there just enough to keep Harry’s head pressed into the pillow. He took Harry’s face in his other hand, and leaned down to kiss his neck sweetly. “Gonna mark you, Haz,” he said, and felt a harsh exhale from Harry’s nose in response. In light of their conversation in the kitchen, it was suddenly clear why. Marking. Claiming. Mine.
Louis bit softly into Harry’s neck, which made Harry’s back arch up off the bed. Louis could already see a glistening shimmer on Harry’s stomach where the tip of his cock lay. He marveled at Harry’s self-control; his willingness to delay his own satisfaction for so long. Louis wouldn’t have lasted a minute, had Harry tried to tease him like this. Kissing over the first bite, Louis set to work in earnest. He took his time making a little cluster of hickeys on the side of Harry’s neck, ignoring Harry's squirms beneath him, and pulled back eventually to admire his art. “Beautiful, baby,” he whispered into Harry’s ear as he ran a finger over the angry red marks. They’d be purple tomorrow; Louis’ favourite shade. Louis made one more mark over his collarbone for good measure, and gave another solid tug to his hair.
An audible gasp escaped Harry’s mouth, but Louis decided not to push it. There wasn’t any voice behind it, anyway. “Doing so good,” he said, running his fingers over Harry’s cheekbones in the same way he might when they kissed goodnight. As always, Harry leaned his head to the side, nuzzling into Louis’ hand. The gesture would make Louis’ heart skip in any normal situation, but between the lust and the trust and the neglected ache between his legs he couldn’t stop the moan that pushed out of his throat. He ran both his hands luxuriously across Harry’s chest, down his sides, over his hips. Palms flat and fingers pressing; Harry’s skin and breath fluttering. He put his hand flat on Harry’s stomach, and slid it gently under Harry’s cock as to grip the soft flesh of his belly. With this light touch Harry writhed, keening and pushing his hips up in search of relief. “Alright, Haz?” Louis asked, stilling the hand that still lay between Harry’s cock and stomach.
Louis watched as Harry furrowed his eyebrows, opened his mouth and then shut it again, some kind of internal struggle playing out on his face. Eventually, he seemed to surrender and gave Louis a shuddering nod.
“Good,” he said. It was more of affirmation for himself, but Harry breathed out extra hard when he said it. He slid his hand out from under Harry’s cock, and spread the precome that’d been gathering there up to his chest. “That’s... good, baby. Good boy.” He’d been saying blindly whatever came to mind, but Louis mentally underlined good boy as Harry seemed to sink deeper into their mattress at the praise. Fuck. Harry’s eyes fell shut, and Louis could feel the muscles relaxing under his hands. This, Louis marveled, was the beginning of what he’d accidentally caused downstairs. To do it deliberately, to be trusted to take Harry apart so thoroughly gave Louis twin rushes of power and adoration. He assessed the situation, trying to keep his head clear. If Harry was going to be as fuzzy and distant as he’d been downstairs, Louis had to be able to think for both of them. Swelling with love for the boy in front of him, he tugged on Harry’s hand.
“Move down the bed a bit, love,” he said. Harry scooted downwards, and Louis grabbed a small pillow from the other side of the bed. “Lift,” he whispered, nudging his hand with the pillow under Harry’s head. Once he was confident Harry was secure and comfortable, he tossed the original pillow out of the way. Quickly, Louis shifted away from Harry enough to strip off his clothes, Harry’s wide eyes tracking every movement. Taking both of Harry’s wrists in one hand, Louis straddled Harry’s chest.
Sitting there, Louis held Harry’s wrists to his own chest and used his other hand to stroke through Harry’s hair. He gave a few good tugs, and each time was rewarded with a gentle gasp or jolt of Harry’s fingers. Louis took his own fingers from Harry’s hair, and trailed them down his face. He paused at Harry’s mouth, where he ran his thumb over Harry’s lips. They were red and bitten, he noted, even though Louis hadn’t kissed him since the kitchen. In his effort to stay quiet, Harry must’ve bitten them himself. He took Harry’s jaw in his hand, sliding his thumb back to Harry’s lips and pushing it in.
Harry sucked Louis’ thumb into his mouth, sliding his tongue over it and breathing hard through his nose. “Fuck, Harry” Louis groaned, and Harry squirmed under him in response. He pulled his thumb out, wet with saliva, and Harry seemed to chase after it with his tongue. Shit. On another day, Louis might have said fuck it all, and let Harry suck his fingers until they came grinding against each other. But now, he had a plan. “Look at me,” ordered Louis, taking one of Harry’s wrists into each of his hands. Harry’s eyes snapped to meet his own. “Good.” Slowly, deliberately, Louis leaned forward with Harry’s wrists in his hands. Holding eye contact all the way, he stretched Harry’s arms up above his head and pinned them to the bed.
For a moment they stayed there, breathing hard. Louis kept staring into Harry’s eyes; watched as they slid out of focus. Any tension that remained in Harry’s body seemed to dissipate where Harry’s wrists met the bed, and now Harry was boneless beneath him; pliant, yielding. “How do you feel, Haz?” Louis asked. “You can use words.” He needed some kind of check-in; some assurance that he wasn’t just sending Harry into some sort of shock.
Harry gulped a little, seemingly struggling to connect his brain to his mouth. Louis’ heart stuttered in fear and was about to pull back when Harry’s soft voice came from below him. “Good,” Harry whispered. “Amazing. More. Love you.”
Harry’s words sent his heart pounding again, this time in awe and adoration and a desperate need to get off. “Okay,” he said, shuffling up a bit so his cock was in line with Harry’s mouth. “Gonna fuck your mouth now; that okay?”
He felt Harry’s body jerk beneath him; Harry must’ve bucked his hips up into the air. “Yeah, yeah Lou, want it, please, Lou, fuck, will you...” but he trailed off, losing his words and rolling his eyes back into his head when Louis experimentally pressed down a little harder onto his wrists. Louis could guess what he was asking for. He’d gotten the request before.
“I’ll come in your mouth, baby,” he said. “That what you want?” Harry nodded vigorously, flopping his curls onto his sweaty forehead. “Words?”
“Please,” was all Harry managed.
Louis started to feed his cock into Harry’s mouth, but stopped when alarm bells went off in his head again. He had to think for them both. With Harry’s arms pinned and his mouth full, there’d be no way for him to stop Louis if it was too much. Quickly, he took one of his hands off Harry’s wrist, laced their fingers together, and pushed his hand back into the bed. “Squeeze my hand if you need me to stop,” he said. Harry gave a distracted nod, pursuing Louis’ cockhead which was dangling near his lips. “Do what I said if you understand,” he pressed. A moment later he felt a harsh grip on his own hand. “Good boy,” he said, and as Harry’s mouth fell open to moan, Louis took the opportunity to slip his cock into Harry’s mouth.
As he sank into the wet heat, he realized that like Harry, he’d gone entire time completely untouched. He dragged his cock slowly, shakily, in and out of Harry’s mouth, eyes fixated on where his own body disappeared past Harry’s lips. A strangled moan pushed out of his throat as Harry slid his tongue over the underside of his cock. “Haz, baby,” he groaned, starting to work his hips faster. “Not gonna last.” Louis realized dimly that the room was a lot quieter than it normally would be: Often, Harry would be even louder than Louis when Harry was blowing him. Louis wanted those sounds; needed them. “You can make noise now, baby,” he panted.
As soon as the words left his mouth, there was an almost constant stream of moans from Harry, muffled by Louis’ cock. Louis doubted Harry was even aware of the noises at this point, judging by how Harry was squirming beneath him. Louis was slowly losing his mind, too, pushing his hips faster and faster into Harry’s mouth. He had just enough presence of mind left to to notice the orgasm crashing towards him. “Close,” he gasped, and pulled his cock fully out of Harry’s mouth. He just needed — Harry seemed to have belatedly noticed the absence of Louis’ dick in his mouth and was chasing after it again with his tongue — just needed to make sure — “breathe, Harry,” he commanded frantically. He couldn’t come in Harry’s mouth without making sure Harry had enough breath. Harry seemed confused but obeyed anyway, pulling in a few deep breaths and pushing them out. It seemed to Louis that he’d reached a stage where he’d do anything Louis asked of him without blinking an eye.
It was that thought alone that plunged Louis’ cock back into Harry’s mouth, sending him tumbling headlong towards release. Harry re-tightened his lips around him, and after that all it took was the sight of Harry’s arms pinned to their bed to send his orgasm ripping through his body; everything got white-hot and it was all because of the beautiful boy beneath him; his skin, his trust, his love. As he came down he took two deep, shuddering breaths with his cock still in Harry’s mouth, willing his body to recover faster so he could tend to Harry, shaking below him.
Harry was still sucking at his cock, moaning quietly and lapping at the tip with his eyes closed. Fuck. Gingerly, Louis pulled out of Harry’s mouth, released Harry’s arms, and climbed off him. Trying to clear his head as quickly as possible, he ran his eyes over Harry’s restless body and knelt by Harry’s side.
Harry’s eyes were dark, glassy, and fixed on Louis as if he was the center of the universe; the star whose gravity kept him from floating away. Louis tore his eyes away and gave a little involuntary groan at the sheer quantity of precome that had dripped onto Harry’s belly, pooled in droplets in some places and smeared in others. His cock was read and angry, and his hips were moving constantly; shifting, twisting, pushing up into the air as his body sought release. Harry’s arms still rested loosely above his head, and he was flushed from his face to his chest — delightfully more so where Louis had been sat on his chest. The marks on his neck stood out beautifully. Louis’ mind reeled, absurdly turned on for having come just moments before.
“Baby,” whispered Louis, swiping his hand across Harry’s stomach to pick up the precome there. “Did so well.” He took Harry’s cock in his hand and Harry cried out, his whole body jerking. Louis started to move his hand, sliding with the foreskin, and Harry gasped, moaned, thrashed about on the bed. Suddenly, Harry’s face was frenzied and desperate, as if everything was simultaneously way too much and not enough. “Oh Haz,” Louis said, frantically reaching up above Harry’s head. He brought one of Harry’s arms down, grabbing his hand tightly and pulling it in against Louis’ own chest. This seemed to ground Harry a bit, his hips working into a more regular rhythm as the desperate chorus of uuh, ah, Lou, uuh, please continued to fall from his mouth. “Baby, sweet baby,” Louis murmured in his ear, saying anything he could to give Harry relief. “Such a good boy, the best boy, I love you so much.” He worked his hand faster and faster, focusing all his effort on making it exactly how Harry liked it best. Flashed his thumb over the tip. “C’mon, baby, come for me, you’ve been so good.” He leaned down and bit once into the marks on Harry’s neck. Finally, he felt Harry shudder and cry out as he came.
Louis brought him through it, whispering comfort into his neck and holding Harry’s hand tight to his chest. As Harry started to come down he slowed his hand, gradually decreasing to gentler touches. Eventually, Harry’s gasped breaths became more regular and the tension in his body was drained out again. As soon as he released Harry’s cock, Louis was all over him, ignoring the sticky come on Harry’s stomach and collecting Harry’s boneless limbs into his arms. He held on as tight as he could. Harry’s eyes were still closed, and Louis just laid there, stroking his fingers through his hair. “Harry,” he whispered after a minute, running a hand down Harry’s arm to squeeze his hand. He’d never taken so long to regain lucidity after an orgasm, and it didn’t seem like Harry was asleep. “Haz, come back to me.” He kissed gently over Harry’s forehead, his cheeks, his eyebrows, anxiety rising a little. “Can you talk to me, love?” he asked, and stroked his hand again through Harry’s hair. “How do you feel?”
At long last, Louis felt pressure on his back — Harry was pulling himself closer into Louis. Louis re-tightened his grip on Harry, squishing Harry’s face into his chest. Harry made some kind of noise that sounded partway between a sigh and a sob. Then, on the next exhale, “happy.”
Louis would’ve missed it, it was so quiet, had he not been searching so desperately for any kind of response. “Happy?” Louis whispered back.
Another shuddering exhale; a little moan. “Perfect,” said Harry, a little more voice behind it this time. “Thank you.”
The moment felt seminal, delicate, precious. Shaking a bit, Louis took Harry’s hand again and played with his fingers, squeezing and stroking gently. Harry’s eyes blinked open, and Louis swooped down to press their lips together. They hadn’t kissed since the kitchen, and he was desperate for the way it let them skip over words; just send their thoughts and feelings to each other through touch. He tried to pour all the I was worried about you and I love you more than anything into Harry’s mouth. In return he got the softest kiss, from which Louis read something like I love you and I’m alright.
Louis pulled back, endlessly relieved to see the beginnings of the regular shimmer back in Harry’s eyes. Harry squeezed Louis’ hand, and pulled their hands up so they were pressed between their chests. “Never felt so good, Lou,” said Harry. His voice was still quiet; neither of them was willing to break the soft bubble around them yet.
“Yeah?”
“Feel... felt taken care of. Y'make me feel safe. Loved. Yours.”
The shadow of Harry’s flush was back again, and Louis’ heart melted. “Good,” Louis breathed back, leaning down to kiss Harry’s forehead.
“Are you alright?” asked Harry.
“Yeah,” said Louis. “Was really good for me too.” Louis took a moment, considering. “I was scared at some points, like, scared I’d gone too far or I was gonna hurt you. Think we should talk more; figure out more stuff. So I won’t be scared.”
“Mmm.” Harry nodded. “Yeah. Let’s talk more. There’s probably stuff on the internet, too. We can research.”
Louis giggled. “Oh god,” he said. “Imagine our search history. ‘How to... ’” Louis trailed off. “Harry,” he said suddenly, dusty teenage memories of late nights and shady porn sites appearing in his head. “Isn’t this, like, a thing? Did I just... dominate you?”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up, giggling. His syrupy state was fading back into normal, teasing Harry. “Is that what’s called?”
“Haven’t you heard of it? Like, in porn — ”
“I don’t know what kind of porn you’ve been watching, Lou, but —”
“Hey!” Louis flipped them over, so Harry was pushed onto his back and Louis loomed above him. “That was a long time ago. It’s a thing, I pro—”
But Harry was already on him, wrenching himself out from under Louis and flipping their positions. Louis yelped and fought back, and soon they were wrestling naked on their bed, shrieking and laughing. Finally, Harry managed to pin Louis down, sitting triumphantly on Louis’ stomach. They stayed there, panting, giggling, staring into each other’s eyes. “How the tables have turned,” whispered Louis, beaming up at Harry. Harry said nothing in response; just leaned down to kiss him again.