Golden Gloves (Larry Stylinson) {Co-written with @bradfords}

Chapter 15

LOUIS’ POV  (written by kaity)

 “Oh, fuck.” I mutter softly, trying to walk into the kitchen from Harry’s [hotel] bedroom. My muscles are still sore, and aching, and shaking from last night; I can hardly walk. I push through the pain though, and proceed to making myself a bowl of cereal and a glass of chocolate milk. (The Nesquik flavoring syrup is much better than the Hershey’s kind.)

 “Lou? ‘S that you?” Harry drags himself into the kitchen.

 “No, I’m a mass murderer.” I laugh. “Of course it’s me, who else would be here? ‘Specially at ten in the mornin’.”

 “Whatever,” Harry blushes. I feel his hot lips connect with my neck. He kisses and sucks on the skin, then swirls his tongue around the forming bruise to make it feel better. “I was thinking we could have a little round two, if you know what I mean.” His arms wrap around my waist, and he perches his head on my right shoulder. “Can make you feel good.” He whispers.

 “I’m in the middle of making breakfast —”

 “Please!” Harry interrupts.

 I smile. “Damn, Harry. You don’t need to be so eager, babe.” I kiss his cheek. “Fine, but under one condition.” Harry nods eagerly, letting me continue. “Later on, will you Skype my friends Zayn and Liam with me? I’m sure they’d love to meet you — virtually, meet you.”

 “I would, Louis, but Niall’s coming over at twelve, and I promised him he could spend the night here —— before you get too mad about me not telling you — it’s because he came out to his parents last night, and they told him that ‘they needed space to think and process it’ or something.”

 “Oh my god… That’s horrible! I mean, I thought my dad was horrid for not talking to me, but he didn’t temporarily throw me out of the house or anything…”

 “Yeah, that’s why I’m letting him stay here. He said only one night, but he can stay longer if he needs to, right?” Harry asks.

 “Of course.” I nod.

 Harry smiles. “Thank you baby. Now — uh, do I still get to make you feel nice, or…?” I laugh and take Harry’s hand, leading him into the bedroom. I take off my tee shirt, and lie back on the bed. Harry crawls on top of me and whispers, “You look so pretty all positioned and ready for me, baby.” And shit, dirty talk makes me uncomfortable, and I don’t know what to say back. “But these boxers must go. Take them off, please.” (Thank god, he saved me by saying something else.)

 I remove my boxers and get back into the position I was in before, ready for Harry to ‘make me feel nice’ as he says. “May I have a kiss first?” I ask politely, blushing. Harry smiles like a little boy on his birthday, and leans in slowly to give me a slow, sweet tasting, romantic kiss — like the ones in the movies.

 Harry takes his clothes off, too, and throws them to the floor in front of the bed. Quickly, he preps himself with the lube on the bedside table and around my rim with his finger. “You ready, Louis?” and all I do is nod. Harry  pushes into me slowly, and although it hurts, it feels better than it did last night.

 “Mmf,” I quietly moan. “You can move, it’s fine — I’m fine.”

 Harry nods and starts to push in and out in rhythm. He whispers, “yes, yes. Mm, yes,” under his breath as he continues with his same rhythm. He bites his lip, and uses more of his weight to push in further.

 “Oh — yes, oh —” I arch my back, feeling a quick climax coming on.

 And then, there’s a knock at the door. “What the fuck? He’s not supposed to be here until twelve.” Harry slowly eases out of me and wraps his lower half in the duvet. “Hide your junk under the covers, babe. I don’t want him seeing what’s mine.” He winks at me and goes to the door. “Niall — shit, mate, why are you crying?”