The low hum of a lawn mower mixes with the soft snores escaping Louis' lips, as well as the light tap of rain against the window.
Whenever the wind blows softly, the windowpanes groan in protest, the radiators—for whatever reason— howl like haunting ghosts until they stop for a breather when the wind dies out.
Louis rolls over, stirring out of sleep.
He cannot believe last night happened. Possibly could have all been a dream and that Harry is still in Australia, writing break-up songs.
He reaches a hand out to ground his thoughts back to the positive. But he's met with an empty right side of the bed, palm meeting the room temperature mattress. He curls his fingers into the fabric, breathing a heavy sigh.
He should've known that it was too good to be true, that Harry would've chased him after Jeff decided to threaten all they were.
It's for the best, though, apparently. Or this is the universe's sick, twisted way of a joke. Just like Owen's death was another sick joke of theirs.
He peels his eyes open and squints against the light. Though the clouds are thick in the sky, the sun still seems to leave an imprint on the world, creating light greys to wash over the once bright coloured canvas of the estate.
He scratches his head whilst debating on going for a piss, which, he decides to do, or else the mess he'd make pissing on the bed would be far more effort to clean up than walk ten steps into the bathroom in the first place.
He steps over the suitcase on the floor tiredly, rubbing at his eye. Once he's finished in the bathroom, placing his now wet toothbrush beside the pink one in the cup holder, he snatches one of Harry's hoodies from the wardrobe that he stole, the sleeves giving him sweater paws and he flaps them around in the air for a moment before he plods out the room to make a cuppa.
The scent of eggs and some sort of meat tickles the nose, and Louis follows his nose to the upstairs kitchen, feeling a little confused as to why Mabel has decided to cook in here. Maybe the argon has stopped working again. He'll have to get Peter to call a special guy out for that.
His eyes widen when he sees the open door, a curly lad dancing along the tiled flooring, swaying his hips to the beat of the music tinkling out of the radio.
His whistles are just as angelic as his damn voice, and it melts Louis into a puddle all over again. He shuffles into the room and wraps his arms around Harry's torso from behind, leaning his cheek against Harry's shoulder blade.
"Morning, sweetheart. Sleep alright? I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but you've ruined the surprise a bit," Harry cheerfully says, a pout forming on his lips about the last part, though.
Louis blows a raspberry to the nape of Harry's neck. "Well, I am sorry, darling. Do you want me to crawl back into bed and pretend you're not in here?"
Harry laces their fingers together, leans his weight into Louis, and shifts so that his nose nestles into Louis' shoulder.
"Stay," he whines, pecking Louis' jaw.
"Alright, only because you asked so nicely," Louis sasses with a wink.
Harry bites his lip to stifle a smile. "What should we do today? It's a bit wet and chilly outside."
Louis purses his lips in thought, bringing his free hand up to trace patterns up and down Harry's sides and arm, riding it up under his tshirt to feel the bumps of his muscles against the pads of his fingers.
"Well, we could light some candles in the living room, watch a few movies, read a book. We could take over the kitchen downstairs, and when Mabel tries to desperately stick her beaky nose into our business, we can throw eggs at her–"
"She hasn't got a beaky nose," Harry cuts off sulkly.
"–we can draw a bubble bath and sip wine whilst watching romantic comedies on Netflix until a duck comes along and honks at us like in your song." Harry giggles and swats Louis upside the head at that. Louis grins like the cat that got the cream. "It's your choice, love, I'm easy. As long as I have you in my arms, I'll be happy with anything."
Harry leans his temple against Louis'. "What about writing some music? With a cuppa and some Jammy Dodgers."
Louis nods slowly in thought. "Yeah, Dammy Jodgers sound good."
Harry snorts. "Say that again," he urges, looking at Louis with smug written all over his face.
Louis' brows crease. "What? Dammy Jodgers... Dammy Jodge–" He sighs frustratingly. "– Damm... Dammy Jodge. Oh my God!"
Harry is in a fit of giggles, dimples coming out to laugh at Louis, too. His eyes glint with childlike amusement, and it's all so adorable. "Jammy Dodgers."
"Yes, Harold, I know how you're supposed to say it. My tongue is just a little tied, that's all. Don't need your input thanking you very much." Louis rolls his eyes. "Damm... Jammy Dodgers. Ah ha! There we go!" He slams his hands against the counter in victory. "A Dammy Jodger. Fuck! Jammy Dodger! Jesus fucking Christ!"
Harry has his head thrown back with his laughter, tummy rumbling with it.
Louis pouts. "Oh, so you think this is funny? You know what I find funny?"
"What?" Harry snickers.
"The egg on your head."
Harry looks up to his head, touching his hair. "There's no egg on my head," he states.
Louis sneakily grabs an egg from the carton on the side of the counter, brings it up and smacks it down on the top of Harry's head.
"Is now," he taunts, poking his tongue out.
Harry growls a little under his breath. The yolk slowly hugs his curls and drips down his nose and onto the floor. The challenge in his eyes is enough to make Louis squirm and he takes a step back, Harry taking a step forward.
"You don't want to burn that bacon," Louis states and he's quick to flee the room when he sees Harry take the pan off the heat and begin charging after him.
"Louis William Tomlinson this is giving me de ja vu, get your arse back here!" Harry calls out.
A door opens to Louis' left and he swerves away from it before he slams into it. Felicite rubs a tired eye, eyes suddenly going wide when she sees Harry chasing after Louis with now orange eggy hair.
She lifts her arms in the air in defeat. "It's too bloody early for any of this. I'm going back to bed." She swivels on her heel and slams her door shut behind her.
Louis is out on the landing that overlooks the grand hall. His palms go flush against the black cool wood of the banisters that lay behind him.
Harry is blocking his only exit to get downstairs or back on his side of the house. To the right of him is his dad's quarters of the bedrooms where there's an evident dead end. The mirror propped up on the last wall of the wing taunts his reflection. He stares at himself through it, sees the way his breath heaves.
"Give up?" Harry says softly.
Louis shakes his head. "And what if I back flip off this banister and down to the ground floor and flee to the geese?"
Harry scoffs. "I demand you not to do that, darling. I don't want you a broken mess on the floor when I've only just got you for myself again." There's a slight swirl of concern within Harry's eyes and Louis pouts sweetly at it.
"What do you plan on doing to me?" Louis all but whispers.
"Need to teach you that naughty boys get punished." Harry winks at Louis.
Louis swallows. His mind flitters with all different possibilities on what that statement could mean, a few of them making him stir a little and a butterfly flickers to life like a match.
Harry opens his arms out and Louis sighs in his defeat. He plods toward Harry and thumps his head into his shoulder. Harry grips onto Louis' wrists tightly, mischief darkening his eyes.
"I don't know about you, darling, but I have other ideas on what could make the perfect breakfast this morning." His thumb works circles into the skin on Louis' wrist, right where his purple veins show the most.
For a split second, Louis is convinced that Harry is a vampire and that he's going to sink his teeth into those veins and suck the blood out of him.
But he knows that there's a possibility that Harry wants to suck something other than his blood. And that causes a rush to go down and his dick to stir slightly.
"Oh yeah?" Louis says, voice a little croaky. "And what could possibly be better than your eggs and bacon pancakes?" Louis questions, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes innocently.
Harry leans in and smashes his lips to Louis. It's not tender, nothing of the sort. It's quick, hot, a little bit wet. His tongue glides along Louis' teeth before it enters his mouth completely. He massages his tongue against Louis', their lips doing a whole other dance of their own. As if the tongue were to do the salsa and their lips doing a slow waltz.
Louis slides his fingers up to pull at Harry's hair at the nape of his neck, and the lad moans into the kiss, pushing his body evermore closer into Louis'.
"I don't know if you didn't know this, but doing whatever it is you're doing outside my bedroom door, means I can hear you and I'm going to be scarred for the rest of my life!" Fizzy screeches, causing the pair to break apart.
Harry's hair flops into his eyes and he looks sheepishly up at Louis from where his head is bowed down, shoulders scrunched up to his neck.
"Oops?" Harry whispers.
Louis snorts, motions with his head for Harry to follow. He takes Harry's hand and tugs him toward their bedroom.
...
Louis taps his pen against the open notebook, pages crinkling beneath his fingers of his other hand. He bites his lip in thought.
The sun sets slowly outside the bedroom window, a halo shaping the guitar that lulls against the bed upright. There's clouds dipped in golds and pinks, darkening the look of the red leaves flourishing against the brick wall of the mansion. The leaves peppered in rain droplets from the morning's downpour.
Harry gives Louis a sideways glance, Louis seeing him in the corner of his eye. He huffs again, just to make a point.
Harry turns his full body toward him, cupping his hands in his. "Alright, what's up?"
Louis rolls his eyes. "My brain can't think right," he sulks, dropping the pen and flopping his head into Harry's shoulder. "How do you do this so well?"
Harry shrugs and glides his hand through Louis' dishevelled hair.
It won't style right after earlier shenanigans that resulted in them taking a shower together, as well as handcuffs and Louis having terribly sore bumcheeks.
Who knew Harry had a spanking kink. And bondages for that matter.
"I'm sure your brain isn't the problem. You've created such beautiful arts in the past. You just need the motivation, the inspiration." Harry kisses the top of Louis' nose.
Louis frowns a little. "If this is your way of trying to get me back into bed again, you'll have another thing coming. I'm too knackered."
Harry licks Louis' nose now, and he wiggles it. "I wasn't thinking anything of the sort. But now you have that in my mind..." Louis swats him on the chest, causing him to chuckle. "I'm teasing you, baby. Let me see what you've written so far."
Louis' lips continue to tug down and he weakly hands the book to Harry.
Harry thumbs his bottom lip, drawing his leg up so that he can rest his elbow against his knee. A dimple shows for a moment before it smooths back out over ivory skin.
"This is amazing, Lou," he whispers in awe. "Do you know what kind of beat you'd go for?"
Louis nods, grabs the guitar. "I was thinking more of a drum beat than anything. But, mind you, this is just the first draft so it might be completely shit." He gives Harry a pointed look, waiting for approval in some way.
Harry inclines his head slightly to show he understands.
Louis clears his throat, fingers a little shaky now that he has an audience.
It's only Harry he tries to remind himself. It's only his soul mate. Jesus fuck, Harry is his soul mate.
He begins strumming the first few chords, breathing in deep as his chest feels a little tight but it soon eases when Harry gives him a reassuring smile.
"You're a nightmare on the dance floor, and you hate me and I want more. You're a total distraction, while I'm waiting for you reaction," Louis begins singing.
Harry begins drumming his hands against his legs to the beat of the guitar and Louis' voice.
At the end of the song, Harry crushes Louis into a hug. "It's so so amazing, Lou! I really wish you'd take up singing professionally with me."
Louis shakes his head whilst placing the guitar down by its neck. "Nah, I give you permission to take the song, though. Whatever I write is for you to use. I'm now in your possession." He twirls a strand of Harry's hair along his finger.
Harry places a hand to his heart, slightly mocking. "And whose to say you weren't mine to begin with? I never needed permission, darling. I made sure you were mine the first day I laid my eyes on you."
"Only because I was half naked. If it wasn't for Dad telling me to pop my tshirt on, you'd have ravaged me on the spot."
Harry purses his lip in thought. "Hm, guess you're right there. And now I get to do that to you even if you're fully dressed or not."
Louis shoves Harry's face away with his palm. "Shut up."
Harry giggles, shoulders rumbling with it. "I'm hungry," he says after a beat.
Louis sighs. "Come on, Princess, let's get you some grub." He pats Harry's bare knee from where he's wearing some tight high waisted pink shorts.
It compliments Harry's thighs perfectly and gets Louis all worked up whenever he sees them on. Not to mention the perky bum, it's almost better than Louis'.
Almost.
A/N- OMG HI
so sorry the updates have been so slow I've been too preoccupied with living a life outside of my phone a bit that I forgot all about updating haha.
Hope this was an okay update sorry the chapter is short.
Yay happy larry!
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