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As Louis discarded yet another shirt on the floor and returned to the closet, Harry plopped down on the bed and started giggling.
“It’s not funny, Harry. Nothing fits right anymore. I hate it,” Louis whined from inside a grey jumper. As soon as his head popped out of the neck, he continued. “S’not fair anyway. You eat and eat all the time and, well, just look at you. I have one milkshake and there’s a new roll of pudge on my tummy.” His lip turned down in a pout as he turned to the mirror, fidgeting with the wool hem.
Harry couldn’t help it. He laughed again and flipped his fringe back from his eye. “Louis. It’s just sort of ridiculously ironic, don’t you think? I mean, we’re getting ready to go do our first performance of Little Things, a song which actually says ‘you’ve never loved your stomach or your thighs’, yet you’re here destroying your flat with clothing because you have a tiny belly.”
Louis harrumphed and started to pull the jumper off, but Harry jumped from the bed and encircled Lou in his arms from behind.
“Leave it,” he whispered and began kissing Louis ever so gently along his neck and collarbone. “It used to be mine. I love that you still have some of my clothes.”
Louis melted back into Harry’s arms a bit and sighed. “It’s just, I feel like I’m bloated up all the time. You’ve got to stop cooking so much, Haz. Or at least start making things that aren’t so buttery and ...” He drifted off as Harry’s kisses became more insistent, wondering if he was intending to leave marks.
“Mmmm,” Harry mumbled, rubbing his nose against Louis’s cheek. “I think I’ve got a better idea. What if I still cook for us, but we increase our level of physical activity?” As he spoke, his hands slid underneath the sweater and toyed with the button on Lou’s trousers. “Maybe we need to get a bit more exercise, if you know what I mean?”
Louis squirmed into the other boy, the breath on his neck and the hands at his fly making him go hard. “I think maybe that’s a fantastic idea. But right now, we’re going to be late love.” Reluctantly, Louis grabbed Harry’s hands and stepped away, pulling him toward the door and laughing softly when Harry groaned.
“But they’d wait for us. I promise.” Now it was Harry doing the whining, and Louis couldn’t help but turn around and steal a deep kiss.
“Later,” he whispered.
“I’m holding you to that,” Harry replied, adjusting himself on the way out the door.
Everyone had gradually stopped walking on eggshells around Louis and Harry over the last few weeks of promo. They had been through a rough few months there at the end of the US tour and then back home in London. Louis couldn’t take the constant scrutiny, Harry had run to his friend Nick, and for a while everyone really thought it was over. Harry himself had prepared for the worst, leaning on Grimmy and their friendship heavily while Louis sorted things out and decided what he wanted.
Eventually though, Lou had shown back up on his doorstep. He wasn’t crying in the drenching rain or holding a boombox over his head. No, it was nothing dramatic like that. Just a sweet, passionate reunion laced with ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘I want to be with you Hazza’, and from that day forward they had worked hard to regain what had been nearly lost. It was going to take a long time to get back to where they were, but they were both in it for good this time.
So that day, when they walked in to record Little Things holding hands, no one thought twice of it and they got down to work. The performance went well, all told. A bit of a long day, but that was to be expected when pre-recording something that was going to air on the X Factor in a few weeks time. They wanted it to be perfect, as did management--even Simon stopped by to check on things.
But One Direction wouldn’t be One Direction without a certain amount of teenaged goofing off. Niall kept pulling faces at Zayn during his solo, and Liam kept putting this stupid Batman mask on when the cameras panned away. And of course after singing the same song about thirty-five times, Louis had started to whisper stupid replacement lyrics in Harry’s ear, and of course Harry would sing them, because he’ll do anything for a laugh. He sang ‘I won’t let these shoe strings’ instead of ‘I won’t let these little things’, ‘big brown poo’ instead of ‘but if I do’, and finally ‘I’m in love with Lou’ instead of ‘I’m in love with you’--to which Louis beamed and sat up a little straighter--before they got serious and finished their final cut.
Some time after eight o’clock, Louis and Harry got back to Louis’s flat, where they ordered takeaway and lounged on the sofa for a few hours before Lou decided to get to work on cleaning up his clothes.
“Bring us some tea?” he asked Harry before turning down the hall to the bedroom.
“I’ll put the kettle on and be right there.”
As he waited for the tea to steep, Harry busied himself tidying the kitchen, humming Little Things under his breath a bit and smiling as he thought back over the day.
“Hazza? You coming?” Louis called.
“Keep your pants on, babe,” Harry yelled back, setting up the tea and slowly carrying it to the bedroom. When he walked through the door and sat the tea to the side, he noticed that Louis had made almost no progress. Rather, he was sitting on the floor in a pile of clothes, red eyes and sniffles telling signs that he’d been crying moments before.
“Lou, what is it?” Harry rushed over and sat next to him, handing him a cup of tea and rubbing his back gently.
“It’s nothing.”
“Louis.” Harry pulled the older boy’s chin his direction, waiting until their eyes met. “You can tell me anything, you know.” His mind raced with the worst thoughts but he tried not to show that he was scared.
“It’s just ... I know you think it’s stupid and a joke or whatever, but I really do hate my stomach. I feel so inadequate next to you and Liam. Zayn’s thin as anything, and even Niall has some muscle. Just ... don’t worry about it. I’ll get over it. Some day.” Louis pulled away, looking down at his tea and trying not to sniffle.
Slowly and carefully, Harry took the mug from Louis and set it on the floor next to him. He reached for Lou’s hands and clasped them in his own, then cleared his throat. “Louis, you don’t understand. Everything about you is perfect. You’re soft and warm and there’s nothing I love more than holding you to my side, touching you, feeling your heart beat against mine. You’re perfect.” His voice trailed off to a whisper as he gently pulled the grey jumper up and over Lou’s head and pushed Louis to his back, ignoring the pile of discarded jumpers and oxfords.
He slid his hands back into Louis’s and pushed them above Lou’s head. “The way it feels to hold your hands in mine again. Louis, I can’t tell you what that does to me.” Harry leaned forward and slowly kissed each of Louis’s fingertips, then trailed kisses down his right palm and forearm. Louis sighed in contentment as Harry spoke softly again.
“The skin on your arms is so soft. Smooth. Each time your arm brushes mine during the day, it sends a shiver down my spine.” Harry kissed further up Louis’s bicep to his shoulder, pulling back to look him in the face as his lips neared Lou’s neck.
“I know you’ve never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile,” Harry sang, barely above a whisper, and stroked the little lines by Louis’s eyes. Louis rolled his eyes and tried to turn away, huffing, “Hazza, stop.”
But Harry had only just started to show Louis all the ways he loved him. “Louis, I’m being serious.” He blushed, glancing away for a moment. “The words in that song ... they remind me of you. All the little things that make you Louis are all the things I love. I wouldn’t change a thing.” Harry stroked Louis’s cheeks for a moment before breaking out into a grin. “Now lie there and take my compliments, won’t you!”
Harry cleared his throat and shifted his position straddling Louis so that his back didn’t hurt quite so badly before continuing to explore every inch of Lou’s skin.
Long fingers traced a line from Louis’s cheek, across his lips, down his neck and chest, stopping over his heart. Harry placed a few soft kisses there, pausing only to say, “You’ve no idea how happy it makes me to know that I’m always right here with you. Here in your heart.”
He then lazily licked slow circles around each of Louis’s nipples, eliciting a drawn out hiss from the boy lying on his back. Harry took his time, slowly stroking Lou’s sides as he kissed and licked his way down his torso.
“I love the bit of a curve to your hips here,” he whispered, licking Louis just above the hip bone on his left side. Harry’s large hands spanned the distance between each of Louis’s sides to his belly button, and he stroked soft circles with his thumbs on the tummy Louis had always hated.
“Haz.” Louis flinched instinctively.
“Right here, this is my favorite spot,” Harry murmured and dipped his head to suck red blotches in a ring around Louis’s belly. “Soft, warm, comfortable. A total reflection of your personality.” Harry continued to kiss wet paths all over Louis’s stomach and hips, ignoring the growing bulge in the trousers just below his chin.
“Take your trousers off,” he commanded huskily, sitting back to pull his own shirt and jeans off quickly, then watching as Louis had to do a little shimmy to get out of the rest of his own clothes.
Louis laid back on the floor again, crossing one arm self-consciously across his stomach but pulling Harry down eagerly with the other hand. “Want you, Harry,” he whispered, nuzzling Harry’s neck where he hovered above him.
“Patience, love,” Harry replied and slowly made his way back down the length of Louis’s body, only stopping once he was eye level with Lou’s feet.
“Harry? What on earth ...” Louis trailed off into a deep moan as Harry pulled his big toe into his mouth, sucking roughly.
Taking turns rubbing one foot with his fingers while sucking the toes of the other, Harry paused a few times, mumbling barely coherent phrases like ‘best fucking feet I’ve ever seen’ and ‘why have we never tried a foot job again?’
Louis was becoming more and more responsive, moaning a bit and squirming around. “Harry, please.”
“But I still have these legs to deal with, Louis.” Harry gave him a sly smile before kissing his way up one leg to the knee, then across and back down the other, but he didn’t linger long. Instead, he pulled himself up by a grip on Louis’s hips and began massaging Lou’s thighs. “Mmm,” Harry said, burying his face in one of Louis’s legs. “Strong, a bit thick, perfect for wrapping around my waist.” Without warning, he bit into Lou’s thigh harshly. Louis barely had time to react though, before Harry had flipped him over onto his front and was kneading his hamstrings a moment, then skipping over his bum purposefully and focusing on his back.
“Did you know you have freckles back here?” Harry was tracing lines across Louis’s shoulder blades softly, his chin resting in the middle of Lou’s back. “They fade away in the winter and come back for the summer months. I nearly missed them this year,” Harry whispered, blinking back a tear.
“Mmhmm. Right annoying they are,” Lou mumbled into the rug.
“They’re perfect,” Harry replied and slid his hands lower, sitting up to get a better view. “These dimples right here ... I’d like to bury my face in them for days,” he mused, Louis squirming underneath his touch. Harry leaned forward, placing reverent kisses on the indentations in Lou’s lower back while moving his palms to rest on his bum.
“Finally,” Harry whispered, kneading the cheeks. “My favorite fucking part. Louis Tomlinson, you have got the nicest arse I’ve ever seen. Ever.” He touched and kissed and nipped and sucked until Louis was writhing beneath him.
“Hazza, please. Please,” he whined.
Harry snickered and turned the other boy over to his back, settling himself between Louis’s legs. “Ahh, I seem to have forgotten about something ...” he teased as Louis thrust his hips upward. “Oh, right. Your cock.” Harry stared down at Lou as he slowly took his length to hand, watching his own fingers stroke up and down over the foreskin. “Now, if I had to choose, like if I was forced to, sometimes I think I’d rather keep your cock around than my own. And I’m fairly proud of my own so that’s quite a compliment.” Harry’s slow, lazy voice drifted between them in the silence, marked only by the occasional grunt or moan from Louis as they lie there, Harry worshipping Louis as best he knew how.
Eventually, the stroking turned to sucking and the sucking turned to Louis pushing Harry off him roughly, explaining that he didn’t want to come until Harry was inside him. So they moved to the bed together, a hand on a thigh, a leg thrown across another, kissing and generally getting lost in each other.
Louis finally pulled one of Harry’s hands around to his own arse, whispering, “Get me ready,” against the other boy’s lips. One finger slid in easily, working to the tune of Louis’s groans. A second finger joined the first, and Harry worked gently to stretch the muscle there, pulling up on his knees to watch the boy’s face below him.
“You’re so beautiful. The way you thrust your head back against the pillow and pull your lip up between your top teeth. A bit of sweat across your chest. Fuck, Lou, are you ready?”
“Yes, please Haz. Want you so bad.”
Harry struggled for a moment with the lube, fingers shaking in anticipation, but then he was lining himself up and pushing in and nearly seeing stars and--”Fuck, Louis. I love you so much. I hope you understand. Gonna make you know it,” he managed to stutter out, thrusting into the boy below him with each thought.
Managing to clear his head from the initial sensation, Harry focused on Louis’s face and noticed tear tracks down each of his cheeks. He paused his movement immediately.
“Shit, I’ve hurt you. I went too fast.” Harry covered the other boy’s body with his own protectively, reaching to wipe the tears away, but Louis shook him off impatiently.
“No, no. M’alright. It’s not that. S’just ... thank you. I love you too. And I’m going to try to start to see myself as you do. Fuck. C’mere.” Lou pulled the boy over him once more, helped to line them up again, and gripped Harry’s shoulder blades, never breaking eye contact. “So lucky to have you back again,” Louis whispered. Harry dropped his forehead to Lou’s and began to move inside him slowly, lovingly. Making love to the boy he still loved.
After, they were lying in their typical position--Louis’s head on Harry’s chest--and just as Harry was drifting off to sleep, he heard a familiar rumble.
“Was that ... Louis, what have you eaten today?”
Louis looked up at Harry sheepishly. “Erm, I had some tea and toast before the studio and some of that takeaway we shared afterward.”
Harry jumped out of the bed and pulled on his pants, throwing a pair of boxers at Louis. “Up with you. I’m making you some proper food. Something extra buttery.” He smirked at Lou in challenge and pulled a shirt over his head.
To Harry’s satisfaction, Louis simply grinned, pulled on the boxers, and said, “Sounds delicious.”
