The Sun and His Moon

28

Louis smiled at the photo album on his lap. Harry was the dorkiest child. "Hazza!" he called out, taking out another cigarette. "Yes, pet?" he asked, walking into the living room. "I found your old photo albums," he chuckled. "Right. The embarrassing record of my doings," he said with a deadpan expression. "Come on, honey, don't pout now," he laughed, reaching for the lighter. "Which amazing soul got the ashtray?" he asked. "Me. You used a teacup once. Not in this house, Tomlinson," he answered, sitting beside the smaller man. "You know it's bad for you right?" he asked, placing Dusty on his lap. "Yeah I do," he nodded, breathing in the fumes. "Then why do you do it?" he pressed. "I don't know, Harry. I wish I could tell you but I, myself, don't know," he sighed. "Right um wanna see back when Gemma had gotten pink hair for a day and then had to dye it brown again?" Harry asked, desperately trying to change the subject. "Oh no no, I want to know the story behind you wearing a bra," Louis smirked. Harry turned a lovely shade of red. "I was a child with limited thinking and idea of how things worked," Harry sighed. "You are boring," Louis dragged, enunciating each word. "Well, we always can't have all that we want," he smiled, getting up. "Where are you going?" he asked, flicking the cigarette on the ashtray. "To go get us wine. Clearly, you want to flip through that all afternoon and I am too sober to do that," Harry sighed, causing Louis to laugh.

"Who knew the royal family had normal baby pictures? I honestly thought you lot were always so poised and polished," Louis remarked, smiling at the cherub-like boy's face in the pictures. "Look at this cute blondie! Why do you get perms, Harry?" Louis chuckled, poking Harry's thigh with his foot. Harry gave him a look of exasperation, taking his foot in his hand. "I don't get perms, Lou. Hair changes when you grow up sometimes," he stated, not a single emotion gracing his face. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? I even woke you up with a blowjob," Louis asked with a cheeky grin, wiggling the toes of the foot in Harry's hand. "Do I look poised and fake?" Harry asked. "When I first met you, yeah. You seemed so perfect, so graceful and unreachable. But now I see, that you are just as flawed as the rest of us. One may think I would love you less because of your imperfections but it's the exact opposite. You're this gorgeous man with your flaws and it humanizes you. It makes you..you. I think I loved you even more after seeing a bit of the real you," Louis explained, smiling. Harry's heart clenched with a million different emotions. "I love you too, baby," Harry whispered, stilling Louis foot that was poking him constantly.

"You look like a prince!" Louis exclaimed, climbing onto Harry. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to Louis' nose. "Sure, baby," he said, the fond evident in his face. "You really do look all royal and shit. Like the trashy romance where you meet a prince, he tells you that you're pretty, takes you to his place, ties you up and fucks you into Sunday," he giggled. "Your porn choices concern me," he said with widened eyes. "What? Am I the only one who wanted to quit business school and be the prince's sugar baby?" he grumbled. "How did that work out for you then?" he laughed. "Met the prince, thought he was a jerk but ended up falling in love with that fool," Louis sighed. "What about the sugar baby part?" he asked with a rather unmanly laugh. "Well, let's see then," he started with a shit-eating grin, "He always spoils me with lots of love, presents and sex. And he does call me 'baby' and 'pet' quite a bit so I'd say yeah I accomplished my drunken goal," he smiled. "But you didn't quit business school," he pointed out. "Yeah, so I can have some upper hand with my prince. Otherwise, I'd be kneeling all the time," he laughed. "You still do that anyway," he smirked. "Only when I want to!" he interjected. "You mean always? You are pretty submissive, pet," he said pointedly. Louis just let out an unintelligible sound of anger.

"Don't go! It's so warm and soft and my leg was resting just right against your thigh," Louis pouted at Harry who was getting up from the couch. "Mary isn't here to cook us dinner, Lou. You go bother Dusty, I'll make you the soup you like," he explained, petting Louis' fluffy hair. "Can I cook with you? Maybe you could teach me a few things?" Louis asked, just wanting to be with Harry. "You...want to learn how to cook?" he asked in disbelief. "Yeah, I just said that. Are you daft?" he asked, getting up. "No I won't teach you," he smiled. "Why?" he inquired. "Because then I won't have anything to impress you with," he blushed. "Awh honey, you impress me with a lot of things besides your cooking. For example, your very impressive size," Louis smirked, cupping Harry's member. "Fuck cooking," he groaned, rutting against his hand. "Nope, feed your baby," Louis grinned, walking away. "You can't expect me to cook with a boner!" he huffed, pacing after Louis. "What about wanting to impress me?" he teased. "You are plenty impressed, you menace," he grumbled, pulling at Louis' hips. "Nope, I'm hungry now. Feed me or sleep on your couch with a hipster shirt as a blanket. Your choice really," he smirked with a knowing look.