It was late morning when Louis woke up, judging by the beams of sunlight that leaked in through tiny cracks in the walls and the faint calls of the vegetable sellers outside. Harry was still asleep in his arms, his features slack and peaceful. The dim light formed a halo around his tousled curls, making him look some sort of luminescent angel, out of place in this dank basement. Louis thought about the prince’s sheltered upbringing – no, sheltered was an understatement; the boy had been a lifelong prisoner – and he marveled at the amount of sheer courage and determination it must have taken for Harry to escape from the tower, infiltrate the castle and rescue Louis. No one had ever shown this degree of concern and sacrifice for Louis’s well-being and frankly, it was overwhelming, and scary, and not quite how he imagined being in love felt like. He couldn’t help but brush the hair away from the sleeping boy’s forehead and let his lips linger there. The touch roused the other boy.
“Hi,” he murmured sleepily.
“Good morning,” said Louis. He sat up gingerly, feeling like he was ninety years old from the way his bones creaked and his bruised muscles screamed in protest at the movement.
“I’ve had worse injuries,” he said quickly, seeing Harry’s distraught expression. “Betsy’s thrown me out of her saddle a fair few times when she was a hot-tempered young filly.”
“Sweet, gentle Betsy?” Harry said disbelievingly, “she’s a perfect darling to me.”
Louis snorted. “She probably sensed your innocence or something. Horses can smell it, you know.” He thumbed Harry’s nose playfully.
Harry ducked his head into the hollow of Louis’s neck. “Not so innocent anymore,” he murmured, and heard the rumble of Louis’s laugh.
Louis traced the line of his spine and down the cleft of Harry’s arse, feeling the residual stickiness there. Harry wriggled against his hand. “Feels sore there,” he gasped.
Louis’s stomach clenched in sudden arousal. He pressed his fingers more firmly to Harry’s hole. “Would you like me to kiss it better?” He licked the tip of his tongue between Harry’s lips in a dirty simulation of exactly how he might kiss it better.
Harry moaned, cock hardening against Louis’s thigh. His face was pink, eyes screwed shut as though he didn’t know whether to say yes or no. It was utterly endearing. They rocked against each other gently, not awake enough to do much else.
There was a creak of hinges above their heads and a bright stream of light filtered into the basement. “Rise and shine, lads!” Liam’s face appeared over the edge of the latch door. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the intimate tangle of Harry and Louis’s nude bodies and he quickly withdrew, yelling, “Take as much time as you need!”
Harry curled up into Louis’s side in mortification while the older boy collapsed into laughter. The mood ruined by Liam’s untimely interruption, they dressed quickly and climbed the ladder out of the basement. Liam and Zayn were sitting at the kitchen table, eyes puffy, leaning sleepily over bowls of porridge and loaves of bread. Harry and Louis joined them and attacked their breakfast with gusto, neither of them having eaten since noon the day before.
“Where’s Paul?” asked Louis with his mouth full.
“Making deliveries to the palace. He also said that he will try to scout around for any news there about your breakout,” replied Liam.
“We barely got any sleep last night,” Zayn yawned, almost nodding off into his bowl. “The palace guards came knocking three times throughout the night. Three times!”
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Harpunzel || L.S. ✔️
Fanfiction"In most fairy tales, princes and stable boys don't usually have much to do with each other, and in the kingdom of Alluria, that was no exception. Once upon a time, however, a particular prince and a certain stable boy did meet, and here is their st...
