the filth - 2/4

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280872/chapters/2729143

here's part two of the 'you'll breathe me in (you won't release)'

~✰~

He wakes up to Louis pressing gentle kisses all over his face. It makes him giggle breathlessly, before he remembers that he's not supposed to giggle, manly man that he is. Of course the sound bursts out of him again when he feels Louis smile into his cheek.

Louis just kisses him for a while, and then manages to roll him out of bed and have him standing up. It's hard not to wobble; he's still sort of disoriented, and did just have a cock up his arse. Louis' right there to support him, though. He feels like a flower turning toward the sun, eager for attention and care and being indulged with so much of them.

"Is, um. Zayn around?" Harry asks when he realises Louis' pulling him toward the door.

Louis shakes his head and leads him out to the hallway. "Nah, he's at Perrie's place most of the time. The only reason he hasn't moved in with her yet is that she travels so much with the band and we don't want him to be alone."

"Right." The only thing he gets from that is that they have the flat to themselves. So he doesn't necessarily have to curl up around Louis to shield himself from the world as they walk. He does anyway.

They reach the bathroom door, and Louis turns in his arms to kiss Harry deeply. Harry sighs and leans back against the wall, knotting his fingers together behind the small of Louis' back. He notices that Louis' wearing soft pyjama pants and that his skin is damp under his hands, which probably means he's already showered. He also notices that he himself is absolutely filthy and rubbing his bare arse against Louis' wall.

He blushes deep red, but Louis just kisses him harder. When he finally leans back, he's grinning up at Harry. "Get in the shower then. I'll make us some lunch, I'm starving."

He doesn't like the thought of being alone, but he won't ask Louis to wash him. He's not a kid. He kisses Louis one last time and then steps into the bathroom and straight to the shower, not bothering to close the door.

He stands under the spray for a long while, scratching off the come and sweat all over his body. He still feels sensitive, so the mere touch of the hot water on his skin feels good. By the time he steps out he's no more clearheaded. Unlike after his illicit shower from a lifetime ago, this time he's got clothes waiting for him. Not his own, thank god. Louis dropped on the sink a band T-shirt Harry's seen him wear a couple of times and a pair of boxers.

The shirt doesn't fit him quite well, tight on his still-broadening shoulders and growing muscles, but that just makes it obvious that it's Louis', and Harry likes that. The boxers are short enough on him that the beard burn Louis' branded him with is still visible just under them. Harry likes that a lot. He fluffs up his hair with the towel and steps out without looking in the mirror.

They just hang around the flat all day, watching telly and napping and munching and kissing a lot. Louis keeps playing with Harry and lavishing him with attention. He feels like he's walking on air, his heart too big for his chest. But it's starting to fade.

It's a slow thing, but by the afternoon he feels... different. More like himself. Or at least like he won't die if Louis doesn't touch him. It's like coming down from a high, but he's sure he didn't smoke anything last night. Not that he smokes up all the time or anything, just when he's in Niall's basement and they're playing FIFA and the spliff is just sitting there.

Anyway, he stays curled up in Louis' lap. Just because he's no longer sex-high, it doesn't mean Louis should stop playing with his hair.

It's weird, isn't it? Feeling like that just from sex. Not that it was "just sex", it was exceptional, he thinks, from his limited experience. But he's the weird one. He should probably Google it at some point. Should've Googled it before... letting go like that. It was very irresponsible. He should tell Louis, maybe he'll think it makes him bad.

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