Chapter 17 (Part 2)

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Louis' too tired to care now and easily let's Harry insert the plug snugly in place, keeping the stretch and Harry's come inside him. It was comforting to feel claimed and marked up in that way, so he smiled and climbed onto Harry's chest to sleep.

Harry had set an alarm for seven and woke up just before it could go off in blaring insanity. The news came on instead of an annoying ringtone on the digital clock, and he watched Louis' sleeping form in admiration as the reporter spoke.

The boy was still tucked into his side with a dainty palm on Harry's chest, looking so frail amongst the sea of black ink that Harry littered himself with. He took the hand in his fully capable own, while the bandaged left hand ran lines up and down Louis' side. The sensations were probably ticklish and made Louis squirm, a far from threatening frown forming on his face.
Harry moved to Louis' tummy where it smelt like disinfectant wipes and the pudge was perfectly formed. He traced the outline of it and when Louis shifted, hauled the boy onto his chest for safekeeping. He kissed Louis' forehead and telepathically sent his wishes for the boy to wake up to him.

Louis' body fitted into its ideal slot from Harry's body, and it was a settling thought to have that maybe - by some divine providence - people were actually made for each other in a physical sense.

"Darling?" Harry sneakily felt around for the plug and when he found it, he applied pressure to the base.

Louis grumbled something incoherent that sounded like 'Leave me be.', but it didn't mar Harry's intentions. He felt Louis' foot tuck itself between his thighs and his chest lie flush against Harry's as he sighed contentedly.

"I'm gonna make us breakfast. You can shower first, okay?" Harry slid Louis off him and it felt like detaching himself from the warmth of the world.

Nonetheless, Louis obeyed and started to wake up. He knows that he's potentially the worst he's been in terms of soreness, every step meant a wince and biting his lip because of the delicious burn between his legs. He's grown complacent since meeting Harry, feeling like he now had the man to look after him so there was no need for early rising and a strict regimen for himself. He liked - loved - feeling small and cared for because that world was safe and made him happy all the time. Most of the time.

Harry leaves the bedroom in the general direction of the kitchen and Louis pads into the joined bathroom, all yawns and hunger demands from Bean. After a refreshing shower he dresses in the clothes he'll use for uni from the bags Harry brought.
In a printed T-shirt he liked not because Lil Wayne used it in a skimpy music video but because the alien caption had amused him, a pair of blue jeggings that hugged all his feminine curves in just the right places and black secret socks, Louis strides into the living room.

He almost trips on something that he doesn't remember being there and gasps when he looks under his shoeless foot.

"What's Bolg doing here?" Louis asks, watching the creature crawling towards the lounge carpet that's thick and red.

"I thought you'd appreciate the sentiment." Harry greets him with a longer kiss than necessary when Louis comes to sit on the opposite side of the breakfast counter.

There were waffles already on a plate and two tall glasses of orange juice. Louis gives up drooling over the food to ogle Harry instead, the man with as a gorgeous vision from the merciful Gods above. He knows Harry would scoff at that and say he came from the pits of Hell instead.

"I am gratefully." Louis beams. "Is Bundy here too?"

"He's in the studio still. Probably just didn't leave his cage." Harry shrugs, turning back to the stove. "C'mere, darling."

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