All That You Are Is All I'll Ever Need

2 ○○○

“Harry!”

Louis wiggles against the circle rug that covers Harry’s bedroom, only in his pants as Harry, who is laughing contently above him, straddles him. His hands trail down Louis' sides, pinching here and there, making him spit out giggles with tinted cheeks and crinkles by his eyes. Harry is laughing too; his mouth wide open, dimples caving deep holes into his cheeks as he presses closer to Louis, feeling him squirm beneath him. Louis can turn his head against the floor and peek under Harry's bed; he sees a crown and a sparkly dildo tucked carefully under, almost like Harry is trying to hide them. Louis feels his stomach swoop with dejection at the cinch thought, but he ignores it, not wanting to make Harry uncomfortable by questioning him on it.

“Say you're sorry!” Harry urges above him, sneaking his hands under Louis’ armpits to make Louis look back up at him.

A loud howl of laughter pours from Louis' open mouth, and he yells out, “Never!”

Harry pets at his side again, giggling above him with bright eyes that reflects back into his own in vibrant ribbons of golden elation.

God, he is so in love.

Despite Harry being the personification of a soft, glowing star in the distance, Louis can’t help but to quickly grab Harry’s waist to roll them over, so he is the one on top. He grabs Harry’s wrists, pinning him down as his lips curve in a smirk and he cocks an eyebrow. He can't help it, has always preferred the top.

It flashes quickly, but Louis catches it. He catches the way Harry's eyes widen, and his eyebrows line, and his cheeks turn white.

(He’s scared.)

Louis' smirk fades as he swallows his hurt, loosening his grip on Harry's wrists before completely dropping them to his side, retracting his hands to himself. He smiles weakly, the silence of the room biting at his skin, crawling into his bones, making him feel a strange sort of weakness that sits in his throat, choking him, making him feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

Harry laughs below him reassuringly, though, cheeks returning to their natural pink colour. He smiles encouragingly, so Louis returns it. Long fingers are trailing up his arms and Harry’s thumbs rub over the inside of his elbows - they both know. Louis lightly trails his fingers over Harry’s side, making quiet giggles fall from the boy's lips as he leans down, kissing him so gently it takes both of their breath away.

“M’sorry, m’sorry, m’so sorry, baby.” It’s tender and careful, and maybe he is apologising for taking the last apple slice from Harry's plate and then running from him, or maybe it is for anything and everything.

(Louis never wants to be the reason he flinches, he never wants to remind Harry of him. Not even for a split second.)

Reassurance is Harry’s hands moving up his arms to his shoulders, gripping them lightly and pulling him closer. Harry kisses Louis with his lips already parted, licking into his mouth with fervour, letting one of his hands move down his back, pushing Louis down so they are flush against each other; breathing trust and love and 'it’s okay' against each other’s cheeks.

Louis moans into Harry's mouth, stomach fluttering in a way only Harry can cause. They kiss each other nice and sensually; their heads tilting slowly, letting small noises fall against each other’s lips, lapping indolently into each other’s mouths like they have all the time in the world.

They don't. Louis has a class in 45 minutes, and Harry has to go to work at the library in an hour and a half.

But sometimes, in these specific moments, it feels like they have forever. It feels like it’s only them, simultaneously the smallest and biggest things in the universe, but just them.

Louis pulls away first, opening his eyes and waiting to see Harry’s eyes flicker open, before: “Wash my hair while I suck you off?”

Harry snorts, but pushes Louis up.

(Louis is on his knees, water and soap dripping down the curve of his spine as he hollows his cheeks and swallows around Harry with the most obscene of sucking noises filling the hot air around them. Small, soft moans fall from Harry’s lips, slowly rocking his hips as he lathers the tea-tree mint shampoo into Louis’ hair, tugging softly and scratching lightly into his scalp to make Louis moan around his cock. He wipes away any shampoo that drips down his forehead, and Louis’ eyes are wide and glossy staring up at him.

Harry comes down Louis’ throat with a low gasp and Louis swallows it all, getting up only to press Harry into the tiling on the wall and to lick into his mouth.

Rows and rows of body washes still line the tub, the counter, and are in the wastebasket. Louis is trying to pretend like it doesn't bother him when he kisses down Harry's neck.)