The Night is Changing Overhead- Larry

Let's Make Things Physical

Water poured down his back and Harry could feel his climax quickly approach. Images of Louis' hands running over his body, evolved into Louis pressing his cock past Harry's rim. Harry bit into his shoulder as he imagined Louis bending him nearly in half. Humid air beautifully constricted him, water droplets cascading along every contour of Harry's frame. Harry's breath was becoming rugged and he felt so close.

It wasn't Harry cutting off his own airway or the quick movements of his wrist that made him to come. It was the image of Louis giving a harsh slap against his cheek. Harry's voice cracked as he whimpered into his wet skin. Warm come filled his palm as he came into his fist. Feeling as if his knees were about to give out from underneath of him, Harry stretched out his hand to stabilize himself. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Harry managed to open his eyes.

As he weakly grabbed soap to clean himself off, Harry had an inkling that wasn't going to be the last time he got off to Louis Tomlinson.

****

Harry stood in front of the vanity hung above the sink. His eyes darted between his reflection and the brown box that held a small collection of ribbons. September air filtered through the studio, the sound of rustled leaves accompanied the rhythmic taps of Harry's fingertips.

With a definitive nod towards his reflection, Harry secured his hair in a high ponytail. He fingered through different ribbons in the box, searching for one in particular. His fingers curled around an olive green strip, the material thick and slightly tattered from years of wear. Harry wrapped the ribbon around the base of his ponytail and fastened it to make a bow, the green contrasting with his maroon flannel and white shirt.

As he strode towards the clothing racks, Harry plucked his wallet from a ceramic dish and slid it into the pocket of his blue jeans. He pulled his brown jacket off a hanger, slid it past his arms and over his shoulders. Dark brown foux fur lined the collar, the soft material caressing the junction of his neck.

After tugging on a pair of battered Chelsea boots, Harry left his flat. He brushed a few loose tendrils behind his ear as he padded down to the bottom floor. Delicate whispers sifted through the corridor. Floorboards creaked as quiet conversations sounded from behind tenant's closed doors. Harry could smell a hint of bacon, his stomach giving an uncomfortable lurch in response. Having spent far too long in the shower, for reasons he would never admit aloud, Harry had forgotten to eat breakfast.

Harry squinted his eyes as he exited the building, the overcast sky slightly blinding him as he stepped onto the pavement. He tugged his jacket tighter around him as he walked to Menchies. Pulling out his mobile, Harry saw that he was going to be a few minutes early. The knots that twisted his stomach barely subsided.

Harry opened the door to Menchies and quickly scanned the small crowd for Louis. He wasn't there. Making his way to the back of the line, Harry nervously adjusted the bow nestled in his hair. Harry was listening to a petite woman place her order when he felt a sharp jab in his side.

"Fucking hell, Louis," Harry cursed before he even turned around. He wasn't surprised to see Louis standing behind him with a shit eating grin stretched across his face. Louis reminded Harry of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, feline and mischievous.

He pulled Louis' fingers away from his side. Holding them in a tight grip, Harry reprimanded, "Bad." He let Louis go with a pointed glare.

Louis shrugged, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans. "You'll get over it."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned towards the cashier, taking a step forward. "Hi, two large Americanos, dash of milk. A blueberry muffin for me and..." Harry drawled out, staring at Louis questioningly.