Tattoos Together || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 17

Mason had just put the empty glass he used to drink from on the table when he realized that his girlfriend was completely asleep.

He got up cautiously to carefully pick her up and carry her inside. Before that he said goodbye with a silent nod.

Mark began to take the seat cushions from the garden chairs and Harry gently poked my rib area with both index fingers to get me out of the thoughts in which I was apparently lost.

"Are we going in too, honey?"

I nodded, a little confused to be back down to reality so suddenly.

Well brought up as he was, Harry asked my stepfather if there was anything he could help with. But Mark denied his courteous offer and wished us both a good night.

"Are you tired Loubear?" Harry asked when we were lying next to each other in bed, huddled together, only in boxer shorts, simply because the other's body heat was completely sufficient and every more item of clothing would have been too much.

"Let's say I could sleep, yes. But it's not acute fatigue yet." I mumbled; my face buried in his back.

"You are not tired at all, are you?" I asked him, knowing that he was always up late anyway and had also drunk alcohol for the first time, which seemed to keep him even more awake.

"Not really." His voice was just a low whisper.

"So... wanna watch a movie?" I breathed against his skin and watched tender goose bumps form and then disappear again shortly afterwards.

He turned to me. The curly hair fell into his face and over his eyes. I wiped the strands away, for a better view at his piercing green iris, and let my hand rest on his rosy cheek.

"I don't want to keep you up unnecessarily long." He looked guilty at me and put his palm on my hand, cupping his cheek.

"You don't do that, dear. And besides, when I'm tired, I use to fall asleep while watching a film. You know me."

Harry hadn't listened to me at all. With his gaze he focused on the writing on my chest, while his finger traced it with fascination.

I smiled as he stroked my skin over and over again. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful." He replied in awe.

There was a moment of silence before Harry announced, "I want a tattoo too, Louis."

I laughed at first because I couldn't imagine he was serious.

"You're drunk Harry. don't say that, you'll regret it afterwards."

I was sure it was the alcohol, even if he hadn't drunk much, he wasn't used to it. but when I looked him in the face, he stared at me with an absolutely sober look.

"Please take me seriously Lou. I really want this." He pouted.

I decided to first let him believe that I was playing along. "What kind of motive are you thinking of? And where?"

"Do you remember the butterfly from the hospital?" I swallowed.

"I kept it... Louis, I want the butterfly on my ribcage."

I was touched... kind of. I didn't comment verbally, but began to tickle his stomach or chest, just to see his reaction.

He jerked away from me in surprise, writhed under my fingers, snorting, and finally giggled.

I frowned.

Poor unknowing thing.

"You are going to die in pain." I said drily. He looked at me confused at the sudden change in my mood.

"I..."

"Stop it Hazza, we'll talk about that one more time tomorrow, when you're sobered up again."

He rolled his eyes, got up, and took the laptop from the dresser to then place it on our legs. I put an arm around him and excitedly pointed to a movie on the Netflix home page, which I didn't know by the way, but I wanted to save myself the eternal search.

While watching what was happening on the screen with interest, as the film I chose happened to be really good, Harry apparently got bored quickly. -So, he turned to another occupation.

He ran a suggestive movement through his hair and then put a provocative hand on my bare knee.

I looked at him astonished.

"Just don't let me distract you." He whispered in my ear with a cheeky grin on his face and watched with delight as I shivered slightly.

"Just keep focusing on the movie." He continued as his hand slowly went up my thigh. At the same time, he leaned down a little sideways and kissed my collarbone as light as a feather. When he pulled away from it and looked into my face, his grin widened even further.

I followed his instructions. My eyes were on the laptop, but Harry seemed to be seeing in my face that I wasn't actively taking in much of the story that was going on, on the screen.

Again, he let his hand wander a little further up my thigh and watched the change in my expression. He must have seen my face turn red even in the semi-dark of the room.

He stroked my skin in slow motion and I couldn't concentrate on anything other than his touch.

With a quick movement, I stopped the film, closed the laptop and placed the device on the floor next to the bed.

"Don't you want to look any further?" He asked in mock amazement and looked at me hypocritically.

I didn't answer, but felt a faint gasp escape from my throat as Harry now leaned fully over me and ran his fingers lovingly over my hipbone.

As our lips closed in a passionate kiss, I felt Harry's long fingers gently slide their way under the waistband of my boxer shorts.

I grabbed his wrist.