Untangle Me - L.S (boyxboy)

Chapter 7.

Louis wakes up a few minutes before his alarm goes off, rolling over in his bed. Momentarily he wonders why his arse feels a little sore before he remembers the events of last night. One of the more inspired ideas he's had in a while. He sort of feels like a changed man after his first prostate orgasm, like he should be spreading the word about them. Going from door to door and informing everybody about their wonders, a true man of the people.

He yawns and stretches his muscles, gripping onto the headboard to flex properly. Letting out a deep breath, he shrugs himself out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the back of his chair and pulling it over his head. Wandering over to his phone, he takes it off charge and checks his messages. There's one from Harry, sent 34 minutes ago. Louis rubs his eyes and reads the text.

'Am I good to come over at 4ish? I would come earlier but last minute meeting came up x'

Louis is actually thankful for the delay, gives him time to prepare himself. '4 is fine mate no worries' He hesitates before adding an 'x' and pressing send.

*

When Louis opens the door and gets a look at Harry for the first time with a clear mind, it's a bit overwhelming. It feels like Louis' spent his life looking at him through dusty glasses, only now wiping them clean and getting that high definition affect. He's got on a soft white t-shirt, it's long sleeved and thin, dark outline of his tattoos visible underneath. It falls loosely over his collar bones, wings of his swallow tattoos just poking out. There's a loose strand of hair that falls in front of his face, escaping from the messy bun the rest of it is tied up in.

It's been a while since he's seen Harry like this, Louis realises, slight pang in his stomach. These days the most he gets to see of Harry is at work related events. Frolicking around on stage in his colourful shirts and tight jeans, heeled leather boots. Or dressed to the nines on red carpets in some YSL get up, face made up and hair slicked back. Even if its just interviews or meetings, Harry'll be in some expensive outfit, more often than not sent to him for free by some designer that's pulled out every stop possible just for Harry to been seen in a piece from their collection. It feels oddly intimate, just to have Harry stood in front of him like this. Hair scooped up messily on his head, old jeans and a t-shirt. No frills.

"Hiya," Harry greets him, tucking the loose strand of hair back behind his ear and smiling down at Louis.

Louis' words get stuck in his throat for a second as he locks eyes with Harry. "Hi," He manages finally, beckoning Harry inside.

"Oh, um." Harry pauses, looking back at his car. "I brought some stuff with me, like you said. Um, it's in the boot. Sorta need another pair of arms to carry it in." He says, gesturing to his car parked in the drive.

Louis raises his eyebrows, smirk spreading across his face. "What sorta stuff?"

"Like, ingredients. I came prepared."

Part of Louis feels like he should be offended at the fact that Harry actually thinks Louis' house is so lacking in nutritional produce that he has to bring his own, but there's a bigger part that's just ridiculously endeared by the whole situation. "You would." Louis rolls his eyes, quirking one side of his mouth up.

They both make their way to Harry's car, Louis tiptoeing over in his socks, cringing at the feeling of the wet gravel from last nights rain under his feet. For a moment, he considers taking a running jump at Harry and clinging onto his back, piggybacking over the wet floor. Louis' has always had an aversion to shoes and a particular interest in being carried places, it used to work well in his favour when it came to Harry. Their contrasting frames and build meant that Harry could easily scoop Louis up and carry him about with ease, something Louis would never admit to absolutely loving.