LOUIS POV: You and I are like glass – invisible in the daytime
Just as I had expected, when my eyes fluttered open, Harry was fast asleep beside me.
His breathing was loud – almost snoring, but not quite. I smiled at his sleeping form; so pretty, yet manly. The sheets were strung low around his hips, low enough for me to make out hair, yet high enough for me to not excited or needy again. His bare chest was something marvel over: long, lean and never-endingly delicious and undeniably beautiful.
“Y’know Lou, now your hair really is sex hair.”
Harry’s voice was smooth and delicious, and it pulled me out of my trance. I traced the blotches of black and purple bruises on his chest, all the way to his neck and collarbone and jaw, and then his face. His lips were pursed into a sly grin – obviously knowing and realising what my stare was about and what it was holding.
I blushed at his comment, unable to stop myself either, and turned around so my back was to him. Because whenever you slept in the same bed as Harry, you learn quickly that he hogs the blankets and there is no way to stop that – so when I rolled, the blankets fell away from my body, leaving me lying bare on the mattress. I heard Harry groan, both from visual pleasure and un-satisfied pleasure. I chuckled in response, and he whined.
I jumped when I felt his large hands wrap themselves around my hips, dragging me towards his chest. When we made contact, I felt two things: the warm hold of both his chest and strong arms, and the very hard flesh pressing against my lower back. I squirmed, hoping to escape him arms, but that only made the feeling stronger.
After a minute of battling against him, I managed to convince him to let me go – I wanted to him to make me his famous breakfast-in-bed masterpiece. Thankfully, he was up to the challenge to impress his boyfriend, so he hurriedly swung his legs from under the sheets, grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and flew downstairs.
It wasn’t until I heard the clatter of pots and pans and plates downstairs that I realised what had happed. Harry and I had done the deed – fornicated, bonked, sex, made love, or whatever you’d like to call it. I had made love to Harry, and it wasn’t forced – it wasn’t fake or drunken. It was real – it had been wanted from the very start. And that fact…that just made me feel so, so wanted. I heard Harry yell a few minutes later, announcing from the bottom of the stairs that he was coming up.
When he entered, the smell of bacon, eggs, pancakes and freshly made tea filled my senses. I smile automatically at the sight of him; clad in boxers and a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. I chuckled, and he placed the tray beside my bed. I bit my lip and leant up to press a kiss to his neck – that being the only place I could reach with his head being up far too high.
He moaned, and I pulled back, startled by the sound. He blushed crimson, and I ruffled his hair playfully. “Feed me Styles.”
“Louis! Louis! What’s it like flatting with Harry?”
“Harry, is Louis really a very messy flat-mate?”
“Is Larry Stylinson real in the Tomlinson-Styles household?”
I smiled at that one; Tomlinson-Styles household. It sounded…good. It was nice and comforting to know about the certain fans that created the name, knowing that they must like and approve of us – not that we had publicly ‘came out’ yet. However, Harry and I were planning on discussing it with Simon; today…now in fact.
I smiled at the press and the screaming fans, raising my hand to wave – at the fans in particular. Many held ‘marry me’ signs, whilst others had clever ones which led back to the X-Factor days, such as ‘Simple, by effective’ or ‘Louis, I want your carrot!”
I smiled at all them, waving as much as I could, trying to sign as much as I could too before I had to get inside hurriedly. This meeting with Simon couldn’t be any more crucial for us, in fact, it determined the rest of my life because if I was allowed to be with Harry, in future days, I’d want to go public with him and marry him. But if I couldn’t…then that would make problems.
As we entered the lobby of the modern building, I took an intake of breath, sighing at the lack of screams here – but thankful for that. It gave me time to think, and Harry too, and I wondered to myself whether we were doing the right thing or not as we entered the elevator. When I heard the familiar ding, signalling we had arrived at the allocated floor, my heart began to race.
I knew before I came here that I’d be nervous. Undeniably so, I was just as nervous as I was when I arrived at the X-Factor stage to do my audition. Frankly because Simon is intimidating and annoyingly truthful that it makes you sound utterly awful and shitty that it makes you want to curl in a ball and tuck yourself away for good. But I couldn’t let that get to me. Not now, not ever – I had to make this work. I just hoped that my silent, God-less prayers were working.
Harry POV: You and I are like glass – invisible in the day time
Louis was tense – I could feel him stiff and unmoving beside me as we waited outside Simon’s office door.
I didn’t expect myself to be this worried myself; my palms were sweaty, teeth slightly chattering from the cool feeling that always washed over me when I was nervous and the anxiety of neglect and refusal seemed overwhelmingly as strong as fear. I was utterly and uncourageously paralyzed with an untameable dose of fear. When the door opened, revealing Simon with a very welcoming and cheery expression, my fears faded – but then came back with an unfathomable passion.
This was it.
