17 Black (Part Two)

12•

WE GOT 6k READS!! you sluts are so amazing, i love each of you so so much:) here's chapter 12, hope you like it xx vote, comment, share, whatever por favorrrr don't hesitate to message me for anything <3
________ 

"Should've let you do that sooner," Harry breathes out, and Louis laughs, kissing over the bruise under Harry's ear. Harry stands to dress himself, and moves sluggishly off the bed, walking over to his dresser.

"You want a change of clothes?" Louis nods, right before a pair of sweatpants and boxers are thrown at his face. He pulls them from over his eyes, and sees a smirking Harry looking at him, eyes glimmering in the last bit of sunlight shining through the window.

"You know, your face is gonna get stuck like that, one day. I'm sure of it," Louis remarks, voice slightly gravely, and Harry only answers with a scoff. Louis gets up and heads to the bathroom, hip-checking Harry when he passes him.

"What're you doing?" Harry asks. Louis turns, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm getting changed in the bathroom," he says, tone questioning.

"You know, you don't have to go in the bathroom," Harry suggests, corners of his mouth turning up. Louis rolls his eyes dramatically.

"What kind of person do you think I am? Honestly, Harry. You're threatening to rob me of my virtue. It's disgusting, really," Louis teases, and shuts himself in the bathroom, not letting Harry get out another word. He quickly changes and opens the door, and finds Harry standing with his arms crossed right outside of it.

"'Rob me of my virtue'?" He scoffs, and Louis nods affirmatively, coughing a bit into his elbow. Harry sticks his hand out for Louis clothes, so Louis gives them to him, and Harry walks out of the room, probably to throw them in the washer.

"Don't be ludicrous," Harry shouts from the other room. "If anything, it's you who's robbed me of mine." He walks back into the room, and Louis gives him a feigned look of offense.

"Nonsense- I would never do such a thing. How dare you accuse me of something so vulgar? I resent it," Louis claims, trying to keep the smile off his face. Harry snorts, and grabs one of Louis' arms, dragging him back to the bed.

"Stop being so dramatic. And stop talking like you're from three centuries ago," he laughs. Louis hisses when he puts too much weight on his knee, and Harry immediately looks to him, eyes concerned as ever, voice edged with worry and whatnot.

"Hurts?" He asks, and Louis coughs, nodding a little.

"Just a bit. Nothing unbearable," he reassures, though Harry's facial expression doesn't change. He sighs, and without hesitation he picks Louis up- for the second time in a day, mind you- and carries him the rest of the way to the bed before Louis can even complain.

"How sweet of you," Louis huffs, shifting his body so Harry can move the blankets on top of them. "But I have to warn you; if you keep picking me up, you're going to wake up one day without any hair." Harry gasps, glaring at Louis with fake anger.

"You wouldn't dare, you prick. If I wake up bald, you can have lots of fun sitting on the bench for the rest of the season," he threatens, and this time Louis laughs, laying his head back on a pillow. He can already smell the lavender sheets, and he sighs in content, loving the way that his clothes and the sheets and everything in this house smells like Harry.