take care of me // larry au

14

Without warning, Harry grabs his hips and rolls them over. Louis winces in pain but he tries to hide it because he knows Harry will feel guilty. He's apparently succesful too, because then he's got a lapful of Harry, and damn if it isn't worth it.

''You've got so many.'' Harry says, eyes moving down Louis's skin. He takes time to trace each tattoo, like he wants to memorize them.

At one point he moves off Louis's lap to inspect the tattoos on his feet and Louis actually has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. He shivers when Harry's fingers scratch against the two tiny screw tattoos on the inside of his ankles.

Then Harry is back in his lap, and Louis thanks himself for having done whatever he had done to deserve this.

''Do you like them?'' Louis finds himself asking. He's never been all that self conscious. He knows what he looks like, and he's fine with that.

But he knows that some people really don't like his tattoos, and for some reason he'd be really upset if Harry were one of them.

''I love them,'' Harry says honestly. He bites his lip, preventing a grin from breaking out on his face. ''They suit you.''

''I like yours too,'' Louis admits. ''It's really hot. I've got an ink kink, maybe.''

Harry flushes and leans down to kiss him to hide it. Louis isn't complaining.

He runs his hand through Harry's hair, fascinated by the way it feels; it's both curly and smooth, somehow.

Eventually Harry rolls off him so they're laying beside each other, still kissing, and Louis is pulling insistently at Harry's shirt because he wants to feel more of Harry's skin against his. After a moment Harry sits up and then turns his back on Louis and tugs it off.

Louis stares at his back for a long moment. Harry is so much bigger than he is. He's got thick shoulders and a wide waist, and there's so much muscle everywhere that Louis almost feels inferior, but mostly he's just really fucking turned on by it.

Harry turns back around, a faint grin on his face. Louis can't help it; he pushes Harry down against the bed and then takes him all in. Just as suspected, his stomach is all muscle.

His chest is so wide too, and it's completely hairless except for the hair leading downwards just below his belly button. Louis is fairly certain he has never met anyone more beautiful in his life, and that is a very overwhelming thought.

Louis wants to memorize him, he really does. And one day, after he's thoroughly shown Harry just how gorgeous he is, he will replicate this on paper so he can have it forever. 

Until then, he resigns himself to tracing every inch of his skin with his fingertips, starting with his collarbone, moving down his chest. 

Harry sucks in a breath when he gets to his stomach, but Louis keeps going, placing his fingers over Harry's ribs, trying to line them up with the indentations there. 

He pushes at Harry's arms, gesturing for him to lift them up so he can keep tracing Harry's sides, but then Harry is sitting up and tugging his shirt back on.

Louis doesn't know what he did wrong, but Harry is just sitting there, back facing him, breathing heavily. His head is ducked down too, and when Louis moves to sit beside him he realizes that Harry's eyes are closed. 

Harry speaks up dejectedly. ''I'm so sorry.''

''Hey, no, don't be,'' Louis says quickly. He wants to rub Harry's back but he's not sure if he's allowed, so he folds his hands in his lap to stop himself from touching him. ''Whatever you're comfortable with, Harry, honestly.''

''Not for that.'' Harry says quietly. He turns to Louis and gives him a wobbly smile.

''For what, then?'' Louis asks, frowning.

Harry shakes his head and kisses him, long and slow, hands staying far above the waist this time. Louis's are on Harry's shoulders, Harry's are in his hair. Eventually they break apart and Harry puts his forehead against Louis's. ''I think it's getting late.'' he says softly.

Louis nods. ''I'll drive you home.''

~*~

Harry lives in a nice neighbourhood in a house that is smaller than Louis's, but looks incredibly homey and comforting anyways. There's an honest to God white picket fence outside and apple tree outside, and Louis is not even all that surprised, actually.

He has his fingers gripping the back of Harry's seat, and Harry is undoing his seatbelt. He turns to Louis, hand on the door handle, and he says, ''Can we do this again? Or do you want me to just leave you alone?''

Louis gapes at him. ''Why would I want that?''

Harry shrugs. ''Because I'm sort of weird.''

''So am I,'' Louis points out. ''I like weird.''

Harry rolls his eyes and kisses him chastely. ''Alright, Jughead. Call me, then. Whenever you want.''

''Okay.'' Louis says, though he knows he won't call Harry whenever he wants, because if he does he'll be on the phone with Harry so often that his cellphone bill will be incredibly high.

''Later, alligator.'' Harry says when he gets out, and lets out a laugh when Louis visibly cringes.

Louis waits for him to get inside - he does that awkward wave thing before he closes the door too, because he's Harry - and then drives home. His mum is in the kitchen waiting for him when he gets back, but she's not punishing him for anything. 

She's just smiling at him brightly, because apparently Louis isn't the only Tomlinson that thinks the sun shines out of Harry's ass. It's nice to know he's not alone in this.