Can't Get Enough - L.S.

5/5

There was not a single part of their bodies that wasn't in contact with another body part, their lips parted while they panted and kissed, their eyes solely focused on each other, if they were open at all. Harry felt aglow – he felt alive and well. Life was perfect.

Life was beautiful and worth it and every minute they spent apart, was a minute wasted.

That was Harry's philosophy, anyway. That was what he lived by and that was what he firmly believed as he lied there on his bed, naked, making out with his beautiful boyfriend who was still inside of him, pressing him down deeper into the mountain of pillows and sheets they were lying on.

They needn't say a thing to make it clear to one another how good this was. How beautiful it was to be able to taste and touch and learn each other's bodies inside out without having a care in the world because they were still young and they had all the time in the world.

There was something deeply poetic about the look in Louis' eyes. Maybe if Harry had possessed the ability to eloquently describe things or maybe if he had known fancier words, he would've found better ways to say that there was an odd kind of beauty that resided in Louis' blue eyes, something otherworldy and unbelievably sexy in its own intimacy. Intimacy, Harry learned, was what they both lived for. It was what helped them create this own little space in this world in which they fit right in.

Harry ran his fingers over Louis' bicep before pulling away, as if afraid the touch was too bold, and hungrily kissed Louis' lips, straining his neck up and feeling Louis' fingers wrapped around the back of it to support him. God knew how long they'd been rolling around the sheets like this, smiling in each other's mouths and the silence occasionally broken by gasps and moans only Harry could hear. It was good. It was good to not be fighting for once, it was good to be a couple. They were at their best like this when they were not occupied with school or family or other stupid little things that didn't matter.

Harry could feel Louis' heart beating against his chest and he paused from where he'd been pressing another kiss to his mouth – would he ever get enough of kissing Louis, Harry wondered? – to sneak a glance between their bodies. There was come splattered all over Harry's stomach, some having rubbed off on Louis' skin. Somehow Harry had expected to actually see Louis' heart no matter how silly that thought was.

Louis liked Harry's random musings most of the time. They amused him. Harry just didn't feel like speaking because it felt like words would be a betrayal of how true and genuine this moment was. Words were insignificant when it came to communicating with Louis Tomlinson. Words had been used over and over for centuries and Harry was convinced that no one had ever felt the way Harry felt right now. It just couldn't be. This happiness was too good to be human.

Harry kind of felt like Superman.

Harry sighed, pressing his forehead against Louis' and closed his eyes. There was a strain in his arms from where he was keeping himself propped up over Harry and Harry wanted to tell Louis that it was okay, that he could lie on top of Harry completely without having to worry about crushing him. Harry just didn't know how to say that Louis' weight on top of his own smaller body was nice and comforting, without coming over creepy.

"Hmm," Harry hummed happily, finally, incapable of keeping his mouth shut even though Louis couldn't hear. "That was good."

Louis' head had dropped into the crook of Harry's neck by now and he paused from pressing kisses against Harry's skin, as if feeling the vibrations of Harry's voice startled him. Harry kissed Louis' temple sweetly. He remembered the day he ran into Louis, he remembered how thin and unhappy he had looked and never had he been more grateful for sticking up for Louis the way he did now. Louis had enriched his life in ways Harry had not even thought possible.

"Louis," Harry whispered and Louis hummed as if he could hear, seeming to be fascinated by Harry's collarbones if the way he was tracing them was anything to come by. The way Louis paid attention to Harry's body, like it was a precious jewel or a secret space he couldn't wait to map out every time he visited it, made Harry feel beautiful and justified in all the right ways.

Harry didn't even feel worried about the fact that he had to go home later tonight, alone, with that serial killer still walking the streets. He's slaughtered five people by now, and Zayn had yet to be found.

Harry found it hard to believe such stories when he was surrounded with so much goodness, all at once.

There was a hint of a smile tugging at Louis' lips – Harry could feel the corners of his mouth turn up before Louis sucked an undoubtedly impressive hickey into his skin. Harry relaxed his spine and focused on how full he felt for a moment. He never wanted Louis to pull out again and he vaguely wondered to himself why they hadn't done this before, why Harry had been so keen on waiting. He pushed a bit at Louis' chest to ensure he would understand that Harry wanted to talk to him. Their eyes locked and Harry petted Louis' hair for a brief moment before he asked a question that he had been trying to ask for months now, but never had gotten a reply to.

"Lou, why did you take all of your books from your locker that day?"

Louis paused again, but this time, he didn't continue. This time, Louis pushed himself up again on his elbows and stared at Harry. Harry blinked at him and smiled, but it faded instantly when he noticed the look on Louis' face. He buried his face into Harry's neck again and mumbled something that sounded a lot like I was going to kill myself.

Harry's eyes widened in shock. He didn't know what to say at all and his fingers halted from where they'd been buried in Louis' hair. Louis kissed his collarbone again and then nipped his way up to Harry's mouth, nuzzling their noses together.

His boyfriend had been a suicidal stranger once and everyone had ignored him. No one had noticed that Louis had suffered in silence because of this. No one had cared enough, in fact, they had only added to his suffering. The thought of Louis dying was terrifying to Harry all of a sudden, because he had already (mentally anyway) built his life around him.

Essentially, Harry had nothing to worry about.

Louis didn't say he was going to kill himself. He said he was going to kill everyone else.