No Strings Attached

Chapter Fifteen

“So, is this what you do then? Is this part of your routine?”

Louis meant for it to come off as a joke, but he realized he was being partly serious. Harry looked up from where he was curled at the foot of the bed. His normally curly hair was matted down into soft waves from having fallen asleep in Louis’ arms, while his cheeks were a soft shade of red that hadn’t really faded away since last night. And like Louis, he was also wearing nothing but underwear. 

“Routine?” He raised a brow curiously. 

Louis spooned a wedge of grapefruit into his mouth from the breakfast plate Harry surprised him with after waking up that morning. He grimaced at the tangy bitterness. 

“This is disgusting, by the way,” he said, taking the plate off his lap and setting it on the nightstand. “And – you know, is this like, a thing you do? Taking people to the bungalow for a weekend retreat? Is it like…like, a seduction technique?” 

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Louis suspiciously. 

“Seduction?” he asked in his husky voice. “You think I’m seducing you, is that it?” 

“Are you?” Louis asked bluntly, disregarding the fact that they had just woken up from a night that involved two blowjobs and three rounds of sex – all in the name of making up for lost time over the past few months.

Harry crawled closer and rested his chin on Louis’ knee, looking up at him with glassy, green eyes that glistened with something nameless. He pouted his lip slightly. 

“Is it working?” 

Louis threw his head back in laughter and was more than relieved to hear Harry’s booming belly laugh joining his. He didn’t even care that his cheeks were sore from smiling all weekend – in addition to other activities that involved hollowed cheeks – because he knew it was going to end sooner than he would have liked. They had plans to get on the road later that afternoon, and it didn’t help that they had only woken up two hours before midday. 

Coming down from his laughter, Louis watched as Harry kissed a spot on his kneecap, where goosebumps shot up the inside of his thigh until they were cut off by the hem of his underwear. From the moment they woke up, they had been distracted with exploring each other’s bodies. Even breakfast couldn’t detract them from the light kisses they peppered on each other’s neck, chest, and stomach – almost like this was the first time they could really see and feel each other. It played out like a game, one that neither could afford to lose. Instead, their hands roamed the expanse of flesh unfurled beneath them, analyzing and glorifying every exposed part, marking their territory and calling it home. 

This was the first real conversation they had had since last night, since Louis cut Harry off from saying the one thing he knew would change everything. 

From then on, Louis’ actions were colored with desperation – desperation to keep Harry from uttering anything irrevocable and desperation to stay in that moment with him forever. He had always been a man of words, too many words, if anything. And yet in that instant when Harry was closest to sharing something that Louis couldn’t quite come to terms with yet, he had no time for words. 

Harry seemed to fight it at first, seemed to tug away from his lips at every available opportunity in an attempt to mutter the litany of secrets and repressed emotion that certainly plagued his mind, only to lose himself in the sensation of Louis pulling him away in hopes that maybe he would forget. He eventually stopped trying and gave into the inevitability of the night, but Louis could still see it. He could still see it written on his face whenever he pulled away long enough to admire the unyielding, relentless and utterly devoted expression of the boy sprawled beneath him. He tried blinking it away, but he couldn’t wish it away. It stuck with him.