The Sun and His Moon

11

A week after the Louis incident, Harry walked into the office to a rather pissed off Robin. "What got up his arse and died?" he thought, approaching him. "Harry, did you send them the proposal as I told you to?" he asked in an eerily calm voice. "Yes, I did, father. Wait for a second," he smiled, opening up the sent box of his mail. "Then why didn't they get it?" he inquired, crossing his arms. "Maybe because his inbox is full? I know for a fact that his subscription emails always go to his work email," he added, smiling wider. "Stop showing those damn dimples when you messed up. Show them when you actually do something worthwhile," he dismissed, walking out. His smile faltered, stoic expression taking over his features. It really was a beautiful smile, as bright as the stars. The man had starlight in his smile and yet he couldn't see it. 

Harry dialed his mum's number, growing skittish. "Hello, my little munchkin," she answered the call. "Mum when do you know you like someone like, like like?" he asked, playing with his tie. "Oh, honey did you meet someone?" she asked, growing excited at the fact that her son might finally stop with his nonsense. "No, um I've known him for quite a while. He's pretty and sweet you know? I just wanna know if I like him or not," he explained. "Ask that to yourself, mister. Do you like him or not. I cannot give you the answer. I'm not living in your head now, am I?" she sighed. "See that's the problem. I don't know what I am feeling, help me please," he whined like a four-year-old who was denied a sweet. "Dear, you have a heart. Ask it," she smiled and he sighed. "And as if I have a heart to begin with. I am a heartless bastard with no respect for anyone but you and Gemma and..." his thoughts trailed off when he heard Anne. "Dearie, I have lunch with some ladies now, do you still have to talk?" she asked, sighing at how she couldn't even talk in peace with her son without some royal duty calling her name. "No, I'm done. Enjoy your lunch mum," he assured, cutting the call. 

Louis was positively glowing. He and Harry had been on a call last night and he had the bloody time of his life. That jerk was as good with his words as he was with his hands. He was pretty sure the Harry he slept with wasn't the same jerk Harry. That Harry was kind, soft, and caring. All things the Crown Prince could never be. "Steph could you get me a tea? Yorkshire with two sugars and a splash of milk. Get yourself whatever you like too," he smiled, fixing his quiff. "Sure. Will I bring you a blueberry muffin? You didn't take a lunch break today," she asked, putting on her coat. "Sure. Get me a nectarine too if they have it," he added, focusing back on his excel sheet. It had been a long time since he felt wanted, felt desired the way Harry made him feel. It may have been all an illusion that Harry put up to sleep with him but it still made him feel floaty. It made him sort of forget all Oliver did to him, it made the jarred edges of the pain he was so used to, a little dull. 

He smiled, braiding the long pieces he'd torn from the napkin. It was an odd sight really, watching the cutthroat businessman, Louis Tomlinson, make flimsy bracelets out of paper napkins but he really didn't care at the moment. He was giddy with it all, a guy wanted him sexually, their recent deal about some pollen thing that could potentially save the bees was a success and he had time at the shelter after work. Nothing could dim his crinkly eyed smile that put the sun to shame. It was the sort of smile that you would do anything to keep on the owner's lips, the smile that you would always try to bring on his lips because you know how much more beautiful the world looked with it. 

Harry crinkled up the fifteenth piece of paper. Journalling was a weird and bad idea. Who even does it without ripping out the paper every two sentences? "Oh for fuck's sake," he sighed, tossing the paper into the paper basket. Write down your thoughts, it is helpful she had said. It will give you a clearer perspective. Bullshit. There's only one way to get a clearer perspective. Go to the pub, get hammered, bring a girl or guy home and have a merry old time or go boxing. Hitting something or someone over and over again got a surprising amount of stress out, it cleared his head. "Therapy is bullshit," he seethed. Dusty walked in with a questioning face. It was almost as if she was asking him if he'd lost his bloody mind. He had but he was too proud to ever admit it. "Were you good while I was gone?" he asked, kissing her forehead. She tilted her head as if to say 'Do I look like a dog to you? Of course, I broke something and tore up another cushion.' 

Louis' fingers were floating over the call button on Harry's contact. He could call him and degrade himself. Let him know that he wanted to listen to him talk again. That he sort of maybe missed him, which was a frankly disgusting idea. But a call couldn't possibly hurt could it? He hit call. Swan Lake played. Fucking Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Who was Harry? Louis really didn't know anymore. He took a good two minutes to pick up. "Is It Harry Styles that I am speaking to?" Louis asked curtly. "Yes you are, Mr Tomlinson," Harry smiled, probably showing those damn dimples. "Oh cut the crap, Harold. I called because you wanted us to be exclusive fuck enemies," Louis spat. "So I'm that good huh? I told you I have a gift," he smirked. "Just talk me to an orgasm will you?" Louis sighed, getting frustrated. This wasn't like him to crave it like that but Harry made it different, he made it worth the time. "Right then. Go to your bedroom, lock the door, lie down on your bed on your tummy and put the phone on speaker," Harry instructed and Louis followed. He was human after all. 

"Are you touching yourself?" Harry asked, lying down on his bed. Louis hummed as yes. "What are you touching?" Harry asked calmly, "Your cock?" Louis immediately removed his hand, whispering out a small "Yes." and cringed at Harry's sigh that just reeked of disappointment. "I hate when you do that," He said in a voice as light as a feather, but Louis could hear the warning behind his words."Sorry. Haven't been stretched properly since..., could take a while..." Louis tried not to sound greedy and snappy as he quickly pulled his hand out of his sweats to grab the lube and drizzle some onto three of his fingers before sliding them off and going back to rubbing at his hole. He's so horny and could do with just a quick wank and Harry's deep voice sending him over the edge but the jerk wanted more time, do it properly so he could keep Louis pathetically coming back again and again. "S'okay babe. Have all the time we need...your fingers deep inside you, imagining you're preparing to take me? You're gonna need four fingers to do that hmm?" he asked tauntingly. "Harry.." Louis gasped out as he finally slipped a finger into his hole, moving it in and out quickly. "How many fingers, Lou?" For the most part, Harry's voice was calm and steady but Louis just knows the small little pants he let out when he's being pleasured. Louis moaned loudly before he slipped in a second finger quickly, crooking them in just the way that has him gasping, moving his hips down to take his fingers deeper. "How many, Lou?" Harry asked again, an edge to his voice. "Two." He whispered out slowly, voice raw. He felt red knowing just Harry's voice could make him completely gone. "Mmm, you sound so good, Lou. Tell me how you feel, huh? Wanna know how good you're making yourself feel." Harry's breathing had picked up considerably and Louis liked the fact that he could do this to Harry, that he wasn't the only one. "Oh, Harry." He moaned out quietly. He was imagining it was Harry's fingers, longer, thicker. Louis groaned loudly as he slips a third finger into himself, moving his fingers faster as he arched off the bed, and lord he felt so close already. It was hard to believe that it was happening soon but oh well, Harry was gifted. 

"Shh Louis, love..slow down. Don't come yet, said we had time, didn't I? Take your fingers out, darling. Play with your nipples a bit, rub your tummy," he sighed, wanking himself. "Okay," Louis whined, groaning desperately, as he slipped his fingers out of himself, tears sprung to his eyes, his orgasm slipping away from him slowly. "Tell me what you're doing," Louis asked as he slides his hands up his torso, rubbing and pulling gently at his sensitive nipples. If Harry was going to stretch this, Louis might as well know how his imagination worked. "Got my hand on my cock babe, thinking about you riding me. On top of me, all sweaty and panting. I'll help you, hm? Grab your hips and thrust up into you just to see your tummy swell up," Harry practically panted into the phone now and he sounded so close to coming and Louis wanted that. Wanted to have his fingers back inside him, pumping in and out until he's coming all over himself, cock left untouched. "I'm so close, Lou. Get your fingers back inside you, want you to come first." Harry strained, the veins on his neck became prominent. Louis cried out in relief as he quickly slid all three fingers back into his hole, pumping in and out fast enough to be able to take a fourth again moments later. 

"Close..gonna..gonna come," Louis cried out, panting and whining as he pushes his fingers in as deep as they'll go, crooking in just the right spot but it wasn't enough, his fingers weren't long enough. "Me too, Lou," he groaned. And Louis was done for. He felt himself twitching as he stretched his fingers out inside him, cum shooting up his torso and landing on his tummy as he cries out. He came down from his high just in time to hear Harry groaning his name as he comes into his fist, groaning about how small and soft Louis is. Louis preens at that, smiling a bit as he turns on his side, snuggling under the blanket. "Lou, darling, clean yourself up. You don't wanna wake up with dry cum all over yourself," Harry pushed softly but Louis just whined. Louis loved aftercare almost more than he loved the sex. He would never clean himself up, he would lie around, sated and wait for his partner to clean him up and hold him. At that moment, Harry's heart hurt for not having been there with him to take care of him.