The Rusty Old Minivan

Chapter 39

He woke feeling like he hadn't slept a single second. His body felt drained, absolutely spent, in the best way possible. There was a stupid little monkey tapping the left side of his brain, reminding him that the sun wasn't supposed to be this far up, that the room around wasn't supposed to be this quiet. That he was supposed to keep check on his own stupid little monkeys.

He grunted, rolling onto his stomach. His legs ached, his arms too, his entire body actually, ached so terribly good. He threw a hand out for his phone to check the time and regretted the second he found it; it wasn't late morning. It wasn't even noon. It was bloody-

"Three in the afternoon," he groaned, "the kids are, they must be-"

"The kids are all right," Harry said, like a lesbian in some Julianne Moore-movie someone once dragged Louis along to, "I spoke to Niall an hour ago."

Louis skimmed through his messages, just to make sure no one had died, then flicked the phone off again and dumped his head back in his pillow. His lips felt raw against the fabric, numb almost. Oh, he'd had such a wonderful night. The sort not even your body would allow you to forget, at least not for a week or so.

Harry dragged a finger up his spine, shuffling closer. "Morning, sleepy-head," he said, pressing a kiss to Louis' shoulder.

Louis threw a hand out lazily, wrapping it around Harry's waist to tug him closer. "How long've you been up?" he muttered into his pillow.

"Couple hours."

"Jesus. Why didn't you wake me?"

Harry nuzzled his nose against the side of Louis' face until the relented and turned his head into a kiss. "I did," Harry murmured, pulling back a little, "twice, but you fell right back to sleep the first time and you tried to punch me the second. So I reckoned you needed to sleep to recuperate after last night," the side of his mouth quirked into a stupid little smile. Louis slapped a hand over it and kissed him again, "I went quite hard on you the third time."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Nah," he said, shifting onto his side and hooking his leg over Harry's hip to draw him closer, "nothing compared to the fourth anyway," he added and cupped Harry's face, pulling him into another kiss before he could respond.

He probably tasted stale from sleep, and Harry probably did too, and Louis couldn't care, couldn't care about much else than the way Harry instantly gave soft little whimper-ish sound when their lips met, how he jerked forward to catch Louis' tongue, so eager, so hungry. So, so lovely.

Harry roamed his body, fingers tracing his spine, hands grabbing his arse, pulling him closer.

When he made a move to roll onto Louis, Louis pushed forward, tipping him onto his back instead, and straddled him. Harry gave a low moan as their cocks pressed together and Louis cupped his face, pulling out of the kiss just to look at it. His cheeks had a blotchy red flush, his eyes wide and open, so childish and sweet that Louis had to kiss the crinkles by their sides.

Harry gave a happy hum, locking his arms around Louis' waist and pulling him close as could be. "Love you."

"Love you," Louis whispered, so fast his words almost overlapped Harry's. "Love having you here," he said, touching his fingertips to Harry's twitching throat, his collarbones and- fabric. Fucking fabric. "What on earth..."

Harry barked a laugh as Louis pulled back, sitting up on him to examine what the hell he was wearing. He wasn't supposed to be wearing anything, was the thing. He'd been naked when Louis fell asleep in his arms at four in the morning and he was supposed to be naked still.

But he wasn't. Not waist-up anyway. He was wearing-

"Is this mine?"

Harry laughed again, throwing his hands above his head and waggling his brows. "Look good in it, don't I?"