haven ☞ l.s

0.5

+

The sun is well below the horizon, stars starting to dot the sky, when Louis asks whether Harry is staying the night or not.

They've both got their shirts rucked up to their tummies, and Louis had been delighted to find the tattoos all over Harry's abdomen—his butterfly and laurels may or may not be covered in little bruises from Louis' mouth. Nothing further than that had happened though, which left Harry feeling vaguely disappointed but mostly just fuzzy inside over the knowledge that Louis wants to respect his boundaries and go at Harry's pace. They're both hard, quite obviously, but both of them ignore it. That's why Louis' question is so surprising, since Harry can't imagine they'll simply go right to sleep if Harry stays over.

"For... To sleep?" Harry checks.

Louis laughs lightly with a nod. "Um, yeah. Or, I mean. It's your call, Harry. I won't be mad if you say no, or if you want me to sleep on the couch, even."

"You're funny," Harry giggles, darting forward to kiss him on the shoulder. Louis wrestles him around until his arm is wrapped around Harry's waist, rubbing lightly from the birds on his chest down to the tips of his laurels, his fingertips rough but his palms soft. "Just yesterday I was thinking that you might not like me back."

Louis blows air out of his mouth dramatically. "No way. I've been thinking I was too obvious and you thought I was annoying. Harry, I invited you to a sex club the first day I met you."

Harry's stomach tightens up in laughter under Louis' hand. "I... Suppose."

A second goes by, and then Harry finally twists his head up to look at Louis' face. "And yes, yeah, I'll stay the night. On the bed and everything, no couches necessary."

+

It should be awkward, Harry thinks. As they trail into the bedroom, Louis passing Harry a pile of pajamas and turning around respectfully while he changes, Harry can't stop imagining all the things he'd like to do with Louis eventually, and it's disappointing that all they can do tonight is kiss. He knows that Louis is letting Harry call the shots, and technically he could move them further along if he wanted to; he just doesn't want to ruin it by seeming overeager.

Harry holds his old clothes in his hand awkwardly while he watches Louis plug his phone in on the nightstand, shuffle pillows around, and take a large sip of water from a bottle next to the bed. Maybe, Harry thinks, Louis is just as nervous as he is. That thought brings a smile to his face.

"So, can I wash my face?" Harry blurts. "Since you got pizza grease, literally, all over it."

"Oh, please, there's barely anything," Louis snickers, kissing him on the cheek and pointing at a skinny door on the right. "Everything's inside the cabinet, help yourself, love."

Harry makes quick work of locating the face wash and scrubbing himself with it, also digging out a bottle of mouthwash. Since he didn't think to bring his toothbrush, it'll have to do. By the time he's done, he's feeling clean and ready to resume their activities.

The bedroom is filled with low music when he reenters, and Harry stops for a moment to take in the scene of Louis, shirtless, his back to Harry while he scrolls through the music on his phone. He looks up when he hears Harry's footsteps, and smiles lightly. "Hey, sorry, I can never sleep without something playing. Too quiet. Got any suggestions?"

Harry shrugs, trying to keep his eyes trained on Louis' face rather than his body. Even through the corners of his eyes, Harry can tell he's gorgeous, with his long expanses of tanned skin, his thin waist and contrastingly large biceps. He could probably stare at Louis for hours without getting bored, except he's only allowed a mere thirty seconds before he'll look like a creep. He remembers Louis' question, and instantly, the names of any band he's ever listened to have completely escaped his mind. "I like everything."