A/N: I know some of you are yearning for the drama, but you're gonna have to wait a couple days at least. I won't break your hearts again, but there's definitely a peak.
Louis, January 1st
Harry and I had spent New Years Eve on a rooftop.
Like I had suggested, we went on date. The restaurant was situated on top of one of the taller buildings in Downtown LA. Dinner was prolonged due to the scenic view. Around midnight, the pomegranate pink in the sky was replaced by erupting fireworks that accompanied the crescent moon and its circumambient stars.
It was two AM when we returned to Harry's place.
Harry had a craving for going swimming, so we did, but only until seven minutes later when he realised he was too tired. Without planning to, we fell asleep on a settee in the foyer, still naked and wet from the short swim. Seven hours later, we awakened, having printed patches of chlorine-water into the fabric. Nevertheless, Harry didn't seem to be bothered.
It is sometimes true that rich people don't have issues. Only sometimes, though. Because Harry was dealing with a lot of arduous shit that he didn't deserve.
Nonetheless, I suppose our trip to New York could be considered an attempt at putting our issues to rest.
After all, I was currently on a one way mission to help Harry accomplish lifelong self-love. Travelling and making indelible memories were the distractions that would help us get there. I knew I had to get inside his head, like he had done with me, and clear away all the false assumptions about his soul and appearance. Perhaps it would take time, but I believed it was best to put in my full effort to reach the ultimate goal.
We boarded the plane at four-thirty in the evening.
Harry was asleep during the first couple hours, so I cuddled up under a chargeless blanket and watched Flipped on the telly. It was so cute. So cute that I wanted to wake Harry up and give him a review. In contrast, I didn't want to steal his sleep away from him, so I rested my head against the plane window and tried to doze off.
This attempt failed. Not because I wasn't tired enough, but because I could feel a hand lurk under my thermal blanket and start to feel up the soft bulge above the crevice between my legs. At first, his fist simply cupped my package, and eventually his fingers were prudently caressing along the outlines of my cock over the fabric of my tracksuit bottoms. It had been startling the first couple seconds, but helped my body relax in the following moment.
An old woman adjacent to Harry, at the end of our row, was sound asleep when I checked, snoring openly with her bulbous nose tilted up high and mouth hanging drowsily open. Harry must've noted this before he had decided to make this bold move, since he was sparing no time slipping his hand down my bottoms and underwear.
As Harry began to stroke me and have me gradually growing inside his fist, I gave him a tight-lipped, mischievous smile. Harry's timid nature provoked a crimson tint to his cheeks and made him look out the window, hand proceeding to lazily bob around my cock.
I casted a glance at the TV on the back of the seat ahead of me. It was displaying a zoomed-in map of North America, a red trail of where the plane had gone and where it was heading. After having distinguished our whereabouts, I leaned close to Harry's ear.
"Wanna have a quickie and check Nebraska off the list?"
To watch his reaction, I leaned back and felt his hand cease around my erection. His awe-struck eyes found mine in no time, and he whispered back by mouthing the words patently.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Dream Writer (Sequel) » Larry AU
फैनफिक्शन[completed] The sequel to Dream Writer. After five years, Louis doesn't see many flaws within himself except one; that he had given up. What he once had considered to be his entire world had been absent for half a decade. There had been no purpose...
