Work Text:
Louis hung his black slacks on the hook on the back of his bedroom door, admiring the perfect pleats he had just ironed into them. He turned back to the ironing board to start pressing the wrinkles out of his light blue button-up. It was his best one, and it needed to be in impeccable shape for his job interview tomorrow morning.
After three years of uni, Louis finally had an interview somewhere that would get him out of cashiering at the local Tesco. He didn’t exactly plan on being an assistant to a graphic designer instead of being the graphic designer himself, but Louis thought that starting out anywhere within the realm in which he had a degree was a step above many other graduates.
Louis finished ironing his top, stuck it on a hanger and placed it on the hook with his slacks, stepping back with a pleased grin.
“Can’t wait to rub this in Harry’s face,” he mumbled around the smirk.
Louis opened his bedroom door to see his roommate and best friend making dinner in the kitchen. With confidence, he strutted into the room.
“Hey there, Harold. What’s cookin’, Good Lookin’?” Louis asked loudly.
Harry looked up at the living distraction and blushed, but his gaze immediately dropped to the vegetables he was chopping.
“Nothing for you, Lou,” he replied with a smug grin, which was probably in place because he returned the rhyme.
“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis asked incredulously.
Harry shrugged.
“Just that I only have enough onion to make enough stir fry for me, so you’re outta luck tonight, my friend.”
“Alright, then. Suppose that’s okay, seeing as I don’t need you anymore. I’m a proper grown man now, so I’m sure I can fix myself up a cheese toastie,” Louis said while maintaining his grin. It was trying to grow, but he subdued it.
“Pfffft. Lou, c’mon. A proper adult now, are ya?” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.
Louis simply nodded. Harry lifted his knife, brandishing it in the direction of Louis’ bedroom door.
“After I finish feeding myself, I have to go into your room and iron your trousers. You really think you’re qualified to call yourself fully independent?” Harry questioned.
“I do believe so, Harold. In fact, you don’t have to iron my clothes anymore. Done it myself. I think I even perfected the art of pleating,” Louis said, his voice getting squeaky with indignation at the end of his phrase.
Harry put his knife down and looked straight into Louis’ eyes with knitted brows. Louis crossed his arms and popped his hip, trying to exude sass while looking back at him with a question in his eyes.
“Something wrong?” Louis asked.
“You ironed your own outfit for tomorrow?” Harry’s low voice asked. It was lower than normal, and it caused chills to spring up all over Louis’ arms. He sounded slightly menacing.
“Yep! Gotta say, it was easier than I thought it would be,” Louis said as he dropped his stance and hopped up on the counter next to Harry’s workstation. He plucked a carrot between his nimble fingers and smiled. “Maybe I should change my profession. I’d make an excellent dry cleaner. Don’t you think Haz?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
Louis took a bite of his carrot and Harry glanced at his lips before moving his eyes back to his cutting board. He resumed chopping, some small brown curls falling out of his high bun.
“Don’t know. Haven’t seen your work, which, I hate to break it to you, is probably shoddy at best. You’ve never had any practice,” he said with authority, pushing his vegetables into a wooden bowl before turning to the fridge to get out a thawed chicken breast. “I’ll have to do it over again just to fix your mistakes.”
Louis gasped, jumping off the counter.
“I’m going to have to disagree with you,” Louis all but spat. He grabbed Harry’s hand. “Come along then. I’ll prove it to you.”
“Lou, I’ve got raw chicken juice all over my hands! Let me go,” Harry said with a small giggle. “I don’t want to give myself salmonella.”
“Gross,” Louis responded, dropping Harry’s hand. “Wash up quickly and then come see my masterpiece of laundry.”
He walked fluidly into his bedroom, hearing his friend belt out an intensely embarrassing scream of laughter. He heard the sink turn on while he made his way into the small en suite attached to his bedroom. There wasn’t much more than his sink, toilet and tiny shower stall in the room, but it was nice not to have to share with Harry. His million bottles of hair care and body gel could line the walls of the entire flat, Louis swears.
He pulled out his shaving gel and razor in preparation to shave his scraggly beard in the morning. He wanted a fresh shave for the interview, but he was shit at remembering to shave if he didn’t feel like it. Sitting the products on his sink would help remind him to get it over with tomorrow.
Harry walked into Louis’ bedroom then, heading over to where Louis was visible in the bathroom doorway. Louis looked up at Harry’s reflection in the mirror.
“Oh, finally. Never thought you’d shave that thing,” Harry said dryly.
Louis sat his aftershave down on the sink noisily.
“Excuse me? That was pretty fuckin’ offensive, if I’m being honest,” Louis responded with annoyance clear in his tone. Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth floundered around a response.
“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that. Um, shit,” he grumbled as he dropped his head to the floor. “Just, uh. Just show me your trousers. I’m still betting I’m going to have to iron them again.”
Louis looked at Harry’s reflection for a moment, finding a slight flush on his cheeks, but he shrugged and led him to the door. He closed it to reveal the fresh clothing.
“See, babe. Look at this wrinkle-free top! Perfect for an interview for the position of assistant to the assistant graphic designer, yeah?” Louis stated coolly while handing the garment to Harry for inspection.
Harry’s mouth morphed into that stupid frog frown he does when he’s surprised, and Louis knew he was correct about his skill.
“Ha! You’re shocked. You doubted my ability to care for myself, but you were wrong,” Louis stated, taking the hanger back and booping Harry’s nose with a crinkly-eyed grin.
“Okay, so you can iron a shirt. That’s not that impressive,” Harry said with a bored look on his face. “Show me the bottoms. If they don’t need to be redone, then I’ll owe you.”
Louis got the trousers off the hook with a flourish and handed them to Harry.
“I think you’ll find all creases removed and all lines in the right places,” he said. “All is in order. There’s no way I won’t get hired.”
Harry kept his face schooled this time, knowing his tell. He slowly examined the trousers, turning the hanger around in his fingers. After a few moments, he gave them back to Louis.
“Honestly, Lou. I shouldn’t have underestimated you,” Harry conceded with a shake of his head.
“You’re going to look great in the morning.”
Harry shook his head and smiled at his friend.
“Thank you very much,” Louis said while placing his outfit back on the hook. He turned around and placed his hands on his hips, looking Harry straight in the eye once more. “Even if I keep the beard? What are my chances of looking good then, hm?”
The blush came back to Harry’s cheekbones.
“Uhhmm…” he began to stutter.
“Will I lose out on the position if I don’t shave, Harry?” Louis questioned, stepping closer to the suddenly quiet boy.
“N-no, Lou,” Harry said softly. “I think you’ll get hired regardless. Still look great.”
He didn’t lift his head as Louis responded, “Yeah? Then what was with at rude remark about my facial hair a minute ago, hm?”
Harry shrugged and looked over Louis’ shoulder, back into the kitchen.
“I don’t know. Didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Then why’d you say it like you were so relieved?” Louis asked.
Harry tried to step around Louis then, looking to avoid answering the question. Louis stepped in front of him to block him.
“Seriously, Lou. I just noticed it’s been awhile since you’ve shaved. That’s it,” he stated nervously while ignoring Louis’ attempted eye contact. “I need to get back cooking dinner. The chicken’s gonna ruin.”
Louis let him pass this time, but he swiftly followed him back into the kitchen. He rested his elbows across the counter from Harry, watching his skilled fingers dice the chicken.
“I just don’t see why you had to say anything about it if there was nothing wrong with it in the first place. You’ve gone and made me all self-conscious now,” Louis said quietly without moving his eyes from Harry’s hands.
Harry sighed, but he kept on cutting.
“Don’t feel that way, Lou.”
“Do you have a preference, then? Is that all there is to it?” Louis wondered aloud.
There was a small pause in Harry’s dicing before he replied.
“Yeah, I’ve got a preference, alright,” Harry said. The words seemed to implicate agreement with Louis’ statement, but the tone of the words, round and sarcastic, implied that there was more to be found in Harry’s answer. Louis decided to play like he hadn’t noticed.
“So you like me clean-shaven, hm? Baby-faced for you?” he asked with an unassuming smile.
At this point, Harry had finished chopping up the chicken for his stir fry. He placed it in a smaller wooden bowl than the one the vegetables were in, sat it next to the stove and went to wash his hands. Louis observed his tense shoulders closely while he went through the motions.
As he dried his hands, he turned back to the cooktop and said, “You look good no matter what you do, Louis, and you know it.”
A sharp, short laugh rang out of Louis.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m hot,” he giggled. “But we’ve all got a preference. Come to think of it, though, I wouldn’t have thought your’s would be no beard. All your serious boyfriends have had nice facial hair. Thick and well-groomed, wouldn’t you say? Maybe that’s why none of them worked out.”
“Ha. None of them worked out because all of them were dicks,” Harry said while getting the oil out of the cabinet.
Louis’ forehead creased up in question.
“So the facial hair had nothing to do with it, then? Did you ever ask them to shave, if you prefer it that way?” Louis asked with confusion in his voice. After a moment, his eyebrows lifted in realization. “Ohhhh. They all rejected you, didn’t they? Wouldn’t smooth themselves up for you, and your pretty thighs and bum couldn’t handle the beard burn. Guess that would make them all dicks.”
Louis laughed loudly at the idea of Harry dumping men for having facial hair too coarse for his princess skin.
“Never said I didn’t like beards,” Harry mumbled, continuing to cook the stir fry.
“Don’t try to deny it now, Hazza,” Louis said through his laughter. “You literally just said you had a preference.”
Harry slowly and deliberately turned the heat off the pan and moved it to a cool burner. He relaxed his shoulders and moved to face Louis.
“Never said what my preference was,” he said heavily, focusing his eyes steadily on Louis’ this time.
“So, um,” Louis stuttered. “So you do prefer your men to have beards?”
Harry slowly nodded, walking towards Louis.
“Like to feel stubble on my cheek and neck when I get kissed,” Harry confirmed, hands falling lightly to his neck, rubbing there softly. “Like seeing my skin turned pink after getting eaten out. Like to feel claimed the next day, feel like I have a secret no one else knows.”
Louis’ mouth was gaping slightly, eyes unblinking. He was confused at Harry’s candor and at his own arousal.
“Oh,” he eventually said.
“Don’t assume you know anything about my preferences, Lou,” Harry said strongly.
Louis nodded submissively, surprising himself. What was going on in this kitchen? When did it get this hot?
“Why, then?” Louis asked, once he gained some mental capacity back.
“Why what?” Harry responded.
“Why did you want me to shave?” Louis asked, still confused.
A shifty smirk worked its way onto Harry’s face.
“If you don’t shave soon, Lou, I’m going to have to fuck you.”
The words came out of Harry’s mouth in what Louis would swear was slow motion. Molasses moved faster than Harry’s admission. Louis had no idea how he was reacting outwardly, but all he could think about was all the times he’d imagined sucking Harry’s cock. All the times he’d imagined burying his face in Harry’s smooth, tight arse. It was an unhealthy amount of sexual thoughts to have about someone who was supposed to be your best friend, but Louis had always fantasized about his nudist of a roommate. Ever since Harry flounced into their freshman year dorm room fresh from the shower, naked as the day he was born, he had wondered what it would be like to have Harry’s unfairly fat dick inside flush inside of him.
Louis heard someone making inarticulate noises before he realized the source was himself. He was staring at the floor, a dry, “ehhhmm…” resounding out of his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry round the counter, entering Louis’ space.
Harry’s hand was on Louis’ jaw then, directing Louis’ eyes to meet his own.
“It’s so sexy, love,” Harry said while gently caressing Louis’ beard. “Kind of reddish brown, not too thick or too thin. Not too coarse or too soft. You keep it trimmed just enough to where it doesn’t get sloppy.”
Harry’s hand squeezed at his jaw then. He leaned his head forward until his lips met Louis’ ear.
“I’d love to feel it on me,” he whispered quietly.
Louis’ breath hitched, and Harry leaned back. He brought his other hand up to cup the other side of Louis’ face, looking directly into the other man’s eyes still. Every word Harry had said and movement he had made in the past five minutes had been slow and thoughtful. There was no way Louis could question the intent of any of them, and the slow movement of Harry’s lips toward his own now could also not be misread. Louis had his chance to back away from the kiss, but he didn’t.
Their lips met softly, and the pair both moaned, Louis softly and Harry’s on the edge of a groan. The kiss was immediately passionate, but it remained slow and steady. Louis couldn’t believe this was happening.
Remembering what Harry had said moments ago, Louis moved his mouth slowly down to Harry’s neck. Harry moved his hands to Louis’ waist as Louis sucked gently on his pulse, moving his head just enough to let his facial hair drag at the delicate skin there.
“Ah, Lou,” Harry breathed, squeezing Louis’ small waist firmly. “Don’t stop. Please.”
Louis didn’t intend to, but he knew he wanted to lay Harry down. If Louis was in for fulfilling one of Harry’s desires, he was in for fulfilling all of them. He stopped sucking and placed three small, closed-mouth kisses on Harry’s collarbone before detaching completely. His actions were met with a noise of protest from the taller boy.
“Hey, now. None of that,” Louis said while standing and taking Harry’s hand. He started leading them back into Louis’ bedroom. “Sit on the bed. I’m gonna take care of you.”
Harry did as he was told, but he couldn’t let Louis have the last word.
“But I like taking care of you, baby,” Harry said with a smile and dark eyes. The boy was truly chaos.
Louis’ heart fluttered at the pet name.
“We’ll take care of each other, then,” he said in a small voice.
“That’s more like it,” Harry agreed, the darkness remaining in his eyes as he began to strip. Louis followed suit, but they both continued to move languidly. It seemed to be the theme of tonight’s activities: deliberateness, slowness, thought, savoring. They both knew what they wanted, and they didn’t want to rush.
After they were both stark naked, Louis sauntered up to the edge of the bed where Harry was sitting. He smirked, planting his arse right on Harry’s lap. His eyes went straight to Harry’s lips, and his mouth followed. The pair opened their mouths to each other for exploration, tongues moving sloppily in and out of mouths.
“Fuck, baby,” Harry groaned as he pulled away for a breath. His hands were planted on Louis’ hips, directing them to move. “Feels so good to kiss you. Love feeling you on me.”
“Yeah?” Louis asked breathlessly, reaching up to undo Harry’s bun. “I love these.”
Louis dragged his fingers through Harry’s curls, feeling the boy relax even more under him. He could feel the cock of his dreams pressed against his thigh while he scratched at Harry’s scalp. He took one hand out of Harry’s hair and started stroking it.
“Lou!” Harry gasped in surprise, trying to move his head back. Louis stopped him with a tug of his curls. “Shit, baby, yeah. Just like that.”
Louis sped up his strokes only slightly as he tugged Harry’s lips back to meet his. This time, the kiss was more heated. The pace was faster and full of intent, and one of Harry’s hands started running over Louis’ beard. They continued this way for a minute before Harry got restless.
“Louis,” Harry said softly, grabbing his hand to stop its movements. “Louis, please, baby. Want you to eat me out.”
Without a second of hesitation, Louis agreed, getting off of Harry’s lap so he could turn over. Louis smacked Harry’s bum just once, watching it jiggle in amazement. Harry’s accompanying swear motivated him to proceed.
“Spread your cheeks for me, love. Let me see your hole,” Louis instructed sweetly.
Harry reached his hands back quickly, grabbing handfuls of his arsecheeks and moving them away from each other. Louis shouldn’t have been surprised at the perfection he found there, but he was.
“Hazza,” Louis breathed. “Naughty, naughty boy. Someone likes to keep his pretty pink hole all shaved for other boys to play with.”
Louis slipped his finger around Harry’s hole, and Harry giggled.
“I actually prefer keeping up regular waxing appointments. Never know when a nice boy might be invited to play.”
This man was a constant surprise.
Louis moved forward then, breathing lightly over the pink perfection before him just to see Harry shiver. Getting the reaction he wanted, Louis started licking around Harry’s arsehole. He lapped from his balls up to the base of his spine a few times without a rush, just savoring the heady taste of Harry. Harry had other plans though.
“Ugh, more Lou. Rougher, baby,” Harry commanded, rubbing his arse further into Louis’ mouth. “Let me feel you scratch my skin up. Wanna be sensitive after.”
Hopeless to decline, Louis immediately picked up the pace and added pressure to his ministrations. His tongue wetly lapped and prodded at Harry’s hole while he pushed his face further into his arse, moving his neck from side to side. His breath was limited, but he didn’t care. Nothing compared to Harry’s string of curses and moans that were emanating through the room. The neighbors were going to hate them.
“Shit, fuck, Louis. Ugh!” Harry lowered his bum away from Louis’ mouth and turned over, leaving Louis confused. He got onto his knees and pulled Louis to him before pushing him down onto the mattress. Harry straddled Louis hips then, but he started moving forward until his legs were on either side of Louis’ chest.
“You were doing so well, baby, but I need more,” Harry said, sounding confident and ready for it. “Gonna need you to let me ride your face now, Lou. Gonna use that tongue to make myself feel good. Move your head back and forth like you were doing earlier, too. Gonna feel so fucking good tomorrow after this, ugh.”
Louis had never had this particular sexual experience before, but he was all for giving this to Harry. Seeing him so commanding and hard up for it was driving Louis wild. He just wanted to please Harry, so he stuck his tongue out and pulled Harry’s hips down until the flavor of Harry was once again in his mouth.
“Fuck, baby, such a good boy for me,” Harry spat out.
Louis almost froze at that. He hated that he loved the way he felt when Harry told him he was good, but fuck it if Louis didn’t like praise in and out of bed. He wanted to keep being good, so he moved his tongue tightly over Harry’s hole while Harry drug his arse along Louis’ face, looking for gratification.
Harry writhed and twisted and bounced on Louis’ face, moaning and groaning so loudly that Louis had to believe he had no clue he was doing it. They kept the pace of for only a minute, until Harry slowed down, thrusting slowly through his shivers until coming to a stop. He lifted his arse off Louis’ face and leaned forward to rest his head on his forearms, which were lying on the headboard.
“Mmmmh, had to stop Lou. Was gonna come before I could fuck you,” Harry said with a smile clear in his voice. How was it possible that his voice was even deeper than normal?
Louis gasped and mouthed all over Harry’s thighs, letting his beard rub at the sensitive skin. It pinkened quite quickly, and Louis kissed it to soothe it. He sucked harshly in one spot to leave a mark, Harry shaking above him. When he was satisfied with the bruise forming there, Louis rubbed his jaw over it gently.
“You wanna fuck me, love?” Louis asked quietly.
“Told you I was going to, baby,” Harry said matter-of-factly. He started making his way down Louis’ body until his face was hovering over the other man’s. He kissed his mouth once. “Couldn’t resist you anymore. So handsome for me.”
Louis smiled widely at the compliment. Harry grinned back for a second, but then he was reaching into the drawer where he knew Louis kept his lube and condoms. He placed the condom on the bed beside Louis and opened the lube, spreading some over his fingers.
Lightly, he rubbed them over Louis’ tight hole. Louis shook at the stimulation, his own body ignored until now.
“Can I tell you something, baby?” Harry asked quietly.
Louis couldn’t find his voice to speak while Harry spread lube over his arsehole, but he nodded softly, panting loudly.
Harry leaned forward to whisper in Louis’ ear, finger still circling his entrance.
“Earlier, when you told me you didn’t need me to take care of you anymore,” Harry said before kissing Louis’ shoulder, “that crushed me.”
“Fuck!” Louis exclaimed as Harry’s finger entered him at last, all the way in at once. “Hazza, oh, oh my god.”
“Yeah, baby. I know, I know you feel good,” Harry whispered between neck kisses.
Louis really did. It had been too long since he’d hooked up with anyone. Even longer since he had a steady boyfriend. The fullness of Harry simply fingering him was enough to get him loud.
“Please, love. More. Can take more,” Louis panted.
Harry gently worked him up to two fingers, kissing him roughly on the neck and shoulders all the while, giving Louis a mark of his own. When Louis started squirming, Harry knew to give him a third finger.
“Ummm, Haz. You stretch me so good,” Louis moaned. It was sinful. “Can’t wait for you to fill me up with your cock. Been dreaming about it for years, really.”
Harry picked up the pace at which he was driving his fingers into Louis.
“Really, baby? Been a naughty boy all this time?” Harry asked as he punished Louis’ hole. “Dreamt of taking my cock?”
“Yeah, y--fuck! Shit, babe. Please fuck me now. I need it. I need you, Harry,” Louis gasped loudly, rushing his words.
A sound resembling an unattractive squawk left Louis’ mouth as Harry’s fingers abruptly left him. Harry sat back on his heels, watching Louis writhe as he stroked his own cock.
“Sorry, baby. What was that you said?” Harry asked, ego seeping into his tone.
“Fuck you,” Louis practically yelled at him.
Harry laughed.
“Actually, Lou, I think that’s the opposite of what you asked for,” Harry said as he continued to stroke his cock. “Got what I wanted, didn’t I? Got to feel that lovely beard all over my face, my neck, my chest. Felt it on my arse and thighs while you ate me out so lovely I could have cried.”
Louis felt like he was about to cry if he didn’t get some relief soon.
“Please, Harry. Fuck me,” he begged. He felt like he was on fire and Harry was dangling a bucket of water over him, teasing.
“And why should I, love?” Harry asked, feigning confusion.
Louis didn’t want to give Harry what he wanted. He didn’t want to say the words out loud, gratifying Harry’s wishes. But, dammit. He was so hard that his dick could cut glass. Either way, the words were the truth.
Louis softened his shoulders and stilled his movements, gazing sincerely into Harry’s eyes as he said, “Because, Hazza. Because I need you.”
That was enough for Harry. He quickly ripped the condom package open and rolled the barrier over his pink, flush dick. He lubed his shaft up the slightest bit before leaning over Louis, pushing himself in slowly. When he was all the way in, Louis heard him whispering in his ear, “Good boy, Lou.”
“Ah, fuck,” Louis whimpered. “Thank you, thank you, Hazza. Fuck me, please.”
“I’ve got you, baby. Hold on to me.”
Louis latched his arms underneath Harry’s shoulders as Harry pulled his cock out of Louis only to push it back in quickly, causing Louis to gasp and shake. The pace remained quick as Harry spoke dirtily into Louis’ ear, Louis gasping in reply.
“That’s it, love. Take it. Thought about taking it for so long, didn’t ya? Probably fingered yourself right here on this bed thinking about being fucked by me, baby.”
“Yeah, yeah, Harry. I did. I did, right here, and---fuck! Right there, please,” Louis panted and begged.
“Okay, baby. Gotta take care of you. Taking it so well for me.”
“Just for you, Harry. Only for you.”
Harry sat back, lifting Louis’ hips up so Harry could pound into his ass at the prime angle to hit his prostate. He reached between them to grab Louis’ cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.
“I’m about to come, baby, and when I do I want you to come with me, okay? Don’t come before, Lou. Only when I say,” Harry commanded as he fucked into Louis.
All Louis could do was moan and nod.
Louis began meeting Harry’s thrusts then, yelling each time Harry’s cock hit his spot, tears welling in his eyes. He needed to come, but he knew to wait. The pleasure was too much, leading Louis into a fuzzy headspace. The tears escaped his eyes, falling silently down his cheeks.
“Shhh, shh, little love. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you,” Harry reassured Louis, and with two more thrusts, Harry was coming, cock jerking inside of Louis. “Come for me, baby. Let me see you come on my fingers. Wanna taste you, Lou.”
With that, Louis came with a silent cry, head thrown back, spine arched up. Come pulsed into Harry’s hand and onto Louis’ stomach. Harry cleaned up his hand with a moan, tasting the saltiness on his fingers with pleasure. He licked up Louis’ stomach, cleaning him before rising to place soft, pouty kisses on Louis’ lips. He dried Louis’ tears, a couple of which were still falling.
“Hey, there, Lou. No more tears,” Harry said with a small smile. Louis rolled onto his side, tucking himself into Harry’s chest. Small shivers ran through him as his body remembered the pleasure he just had.
“Thank you, Harry. Thank you so, so much. That was all I ever wanted and more,” Louis whispered through tiny, relieved sobs. He kissed gently over Harry’s chest. “Thank you, Hazza.”
Harry stroked his hair softly and giggled.
“You don’t have to thank me, Lou. I love you. Wanted to show you for so long. Wanted to take care of you for years,” Harry admitted with a peck to Louis hair.
“Really?” Louis asked.
“What? You’re surprised that I, the man who has been doing your laundry and cooking you meals and taking care of your home for years, would want to take care of you in every way possible?”
Louis gave him a watery laugh.
“Heh, I guess it shouldn’t. Just didn’t think your love extended this far, to be honest. Thought I was alone there,” Louis said.
Harry pulled him out of his chest to look into his eyes. With brows furrowed in seriousness, Harry said, “Never. Loved you since I’ve known you.”
Louis blushed and smiled, tucking his head and looking up at Harry through his lashes.
“Does that mean you wouldn’t mind making me some stir fry for dinner, too? I don’t like onions, anyway,” Louis said with a big smile.
Harry smiled and pulled him in for a bear hug.
“Yeah, s’pose that’d be alright. Mine’s probably gone cold anyway.”
Louis brought his face up to Harry’s, kissing his nose, cheeks and eyelids before pressing his mouth to Harry’s swollen lips.
“C’mon then, babe. If you can walk that is. Skin too raw on your princess thighs, love?” he asked with an eyebrow raise.
“I think I can deal with the pain, baby,” Harry said with a smile, pulling Louis up with him, ready to make his boy dinner tonight and every night.