Kismet

Nineteen [The Call]

His embarrassment was coupled with a pair of red hot cheeks when he had seen the mess he made of your jeans, offering you something to change into right away which you refused with a grin scribed into your features. You slid down from his counter and stripped your pants off to reveal a set of opaque black tights underneath, shrugging and smiling at his reaction as you gathered your sweater from the ground and pulled it back on over your head before questioning, "mind if I take a quick cat nap, honey? I need to rest my eyes or today will be a wash."

While he adjusted himself he had tried to memorize the way your body looked displayed in a pair of tights that pulled up past your belly button, the line of horizontal elastic ending just a few inches below the band of your matching bra that he was getting rather attached to seeing. Your panties were also black, he could just make them out through the stretch of skintight fabric over your ass as you sauntered towards his bed, stepping over your discarded jeans on the journey and sinking down onto the edge of his comforter. His eyes were drawn to your legs when you kicked one over the other and crossed them tightly, his gaze traveling down to your foot when it started bouncing in curiosity, "you wear stockings under your jeans?"

You laughed and shook your head but he wasn't looking at your face, instead clearing your throat to passively ask for his attention back, "you didn't answer my question again. And yes, I do. For warmth. Jeans aren't very warm, you know. Even though they look awesome. It's even colder riding on my scooter, so. Gotta layer up."

His gaze traveled in a glacial pace from your toes and ankles to your shins and kneecaps, his cock twitching in his pants again when he visually roved over your thighs and finally found your eyes, "sorry, what?" He'd always found himself drawn to women's legs - the way they looked in a pair of narrow pants and the way they looked completely bare and he thinks yours are the most attractive ones yet. If he had any more drive in him, he'd drop to his knees and kiss a path from your ankle to your hip to feel the finesse of the fabric against his lips and his palms. He's not quite ready to explore you with such bravery but he hopes that with time he will be, he fantasizes about a day when you're so comfortable with one another that he can just flip you over and rip a hole in your tights just big enough for his tongue.

"Jeans. They're not warm-"

Harry was still burning the fog off of his orgasm and the vision of your legs covered in a velvety layer of what appeared to be the slickest and softest fabric he'd ever seen wasn't making it any easier, "not that. Your question."

You flicked your chin towards his fluffy pile of white feathery pillows nestled into equally starched sheets and a creamy duvet, the corner of the bed lining up with a large window and an exposed brick wall. You tilted your head to remove your earrings before he'd taken the opportunity to answer you, dropping them next to his lamp before you began pulling the sheets back, "it's okay with you if I sleep?" He nodded and coughed into his fist as he shuffled his weight between his two feet, your second nod interrupting his deliberation, "great, thank you so much. It won't be long. Just resting my eyes."

He watched as you fluffed his linens and pushed his comforter aside, the pillow that he keeps lying vertically beside him as a cuddle object caught your eye for a moment before you grabbed it and hugged it to your chest just as he does every single time he sleeps. You'd nuzzled in and rested your chin on the comforting bolster of down, settling into his bed without him as he pretended to busy himself with plants that didn't necessarily need watering. Your voice crackled through the apartment until it met his ears, "it's not as good as the real thing."

Harry froze in his tracks, his hand pausing the pouring motion it was currently in to glance over his shoulder at you, "what's not?"

You shrugged and burrowed farther into his bed, his sheets tucked up around your chin and your cheek smushed into the mattress, "this pillow. Hugging it. It's not as good as sharing a bed with another person... not at all the same. Nothing compares, really." You rustled the sheets as your feet rubbed together, "wanna see? I can prove it." He shook his head and continued his futile purpose of watering plants, muttering something about not being sleepy which you knew was utter bullshit - anyone would be sleepy after three missed nights of rest, even a superhero like Harry.