So You Say...

Fic

beware:
here comes bad fic without much porn.

Title: Untitled
Fandom: One Direction
Pairing: Harry/Louis
Rating: R/NC17 (personally, I think it’s just R, but that’s just me)
Summary: Human warmth, no matter whom it came from, was always comforting.
Note: Written for and dedicated to: TranssexualTransylvania. Because she’s awesome and we all love her <3

“I need – please.”

And with that, he’d broken their fragile arrangement. In the heat of the moment, the dark they made sure surrounded them always, he broke their silence. All of a sudden, it became so much more real, and the gravity of it frightened him. Movement slowed, until either boy completely stilled. His mind was clawing at a way out of this situation.

Louis swallowed and looked away, eyes wide. He made to move away, then, but Harry grabbed his biceps and leaned back in. “No,” came the whisper, “no, ‘s OK.”

He breathed.

—-

The trek through the hotel corridors was done quietly. The numurous pep talks were already done, words of encouragement already said, and it didn’t really lessen the sting of losing. An afterparty wasn’t exactly on his mind. The day had been long, and Louis felt like he could fall over any second now. He longed for his bed. Beside him, Harry’d stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled along, as if his feet were made of lead.

“You’re walking like an ole’ lady, you are,” Louis commented with an exhausted grin. His arm was already moving, quicker than his thoughts were coming, and before he knew it, he’d slung his arm around the other boy.

Harry didn’t bother to reply, only hunched his shoulders, and they rounded the corner that led them to the hotel room they shared. His whole demeanor was down, ever since they heard the news that evening. Louis understood that. They’d worked hard to come this far, only to have it taken away during the final round.

“Third’s better than fourth.”

“Shut up.”

Louis switched the lights on, unzipped his jacket and threw it behind him. He kicked his shoes off and dove onto the bed. He bounced a bit with the force of it, but then relaxed with a groan of contentment. “Awesome.”

A sigh came from Harry, who was getting undressed and ready for bed. He was moving around in the bathroom, not caring about the noise he made. There was familiar cursing when he knocked something over. Turning on the water and brushing his teeth. And also, the continued dripdripdrip afterwards.

Harry exited the bathroom and turned off the lights, then curled up under the covers.

Dripdrip – oh, hell – dripdripdrip. Louis got up again, wrestled himself out of his clothes in the dark until he was left with nothing but his boxershorts, then made his way towards the bathroom, determined to kill the damn crane. He managed not to break his neck when he almost tripped over the shoes he kicked away earlier, brushed his teeth and washed his face.

He groped around for a towel, found one that was still slightly wet, then dried off. The towel landed in the tub, but he shrugged, and left for bed. Louis’ eyes had already gotten used to the dark in the meantime, and some of his eyesight had returned. His eyes fell on the figure in the other bed. Just a silhouette, a dark form in a darker room.

Concern surfaced. Harry was perhaps the one who’d taken the hardest kick in the stomach this evening. It wasn’t out of over perceived selfworth and ill gotten overconfidence. It was the sheer hope that hit him, tagged him along for the ride.

Louis padded over to the second bed and only watched with a frown. He stood there motionless at the foot end. Had to shake himself to get out of his sudden stupor, but stepped closer. Moved to stand right next to the nightstand. With one hand, he balanced himself on the thin wood, so he could lean over. “What’s wrong?”

Harry breathed in deeply, but gave no direct reply. It actually took him a while, a few minutes maybe, before a mumbled: “Would’ve been nice. Y’know, if we’d won.”

Louis smiled. “Yeah. Would’ve been perfect.” His smile slipped just as easily when he noticed the other was trembling. He sat down on the edge, hand moving from the nightstand to rest on Harry’s shoulder. “Hey, man, are you cryin’?”

The boy shot up, shaking itensifying with the movement. “What? No!” He stared at Louis in disbelief. “I’m cold.” He rolled his eyes and went back to his former position, pulling up the covers until they reached his chin.

“Oh.” He shrugged. “Yeah, me too.” He wasn’t. Not really. Nevertheless, it did make him decide to pluck the pillow from his own bed and deposit it beside Harry’s. Next, he lifted the covers and planted himself beneath. “Now, that’s better,” he commented idly, pulling at the top blanket to keep his hands busy.

Human warmth, no matter whom it came from, was always comforting. Unconsciously, he crept a bit closer, and closer still. The shaking gradually stopped, too, so that was an added bonus. Louis didn’t realise he dozed off until a violent tremor pulled him back from the dreamy haze.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, “I get those before I fall asleep.”

“Yeah,” Louis replied sleepily. He rubbed his eyes and rolled around to face the other band member. “I know.” He yawned and wiggled around before he found a position he was comfortable with. “Just – get some sleep, OK?”

There was no answer to that, but Louis didn’t mind. He was getting ready to doze off once again, exhaustion taking over. Harry fought a yawn. “Did we suck that hard?” came out of nowhere. It sounded sulky, and already half asleep.

He snorted. “No, we didn’t.”

No comment.

“Look, man,” he started, hand resting on Harry’s bare chest.. Louis shifted to wedge a hip between his legs, pinning him down with his weight. “Just ‘cause we didn’t win, don’t mean we weren’t good, y’know.”

Harry made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, alright.”

His move put them nose to nose. The amount of physical contact made Louis’ heartbeat rise up, and he tried to concentrate on the rise and fall of Harry’s chest, but it was futile. Especially now that he noticed how close they were at that very moment – so very close. “You warmer now?”

“Yeah,” was the hoarse reply.

Louis felt his mouth go dry with endless possiblities. Admittingly, he’d given this thought, once or maybe twice. And if he would – yes – tilt his head – like so - then he would – and he was – only have to lean forward – a tiny bit –

– and they’d basically be kissing.

Hesitancy made him slow and unsure. He had no idea what he was doing, wasn’t thinking clearly. And it was messy and all too wet, but most of all, unresponsive. There was no reaction, no inclination that the boy even noticed what was going on, or that he even cared. Disappointment welled up, and Louis was ready to yield, when Harry moved.

No sounds, no lips pressing back, just a small jerk of his arm. Their breathing was ragged, even if this awful kiss could definitely classify as a disaster. He broke it off and leaned backwards to reclaim some much needed space, cautious of what would come next.

Harry mumbled something incoherently, wiped his mouth clean with the edge of the covers and cleared his throat. “I thought you’d done this before,” he said, almost accusingly, eyes locked onto the ceiling.

“You didn’t even do anything, man!”

There was a silence, and within that silence, awkwardness was born. Louis felt the tension build up in his calves and his wrists, palms clammy, and he realised what would become of them and their budding friendship, should they let this poignant pause take over. It was all or nothing, now, because the first step was taken, and there was no going back. This moment had the potentional of hanging over them for months – years, if the band survived – like a bad storm.

Louis was not about to let that happen, he couldn’t. Harry’s stare was intense, like he realised it just as well.

He wanted a second chance, to repair some of the damage. However, in the end, it wasn’t very clear who moved when and where. The only thing that mattered, was that they met somewhere in between, narrowingly escaping a painful headbut while they were at it. The kisses were heated and fueled by today’s frustration, quickly escalating in something more than just the locking of lips.

They were half asleep and not thinking things through, he knew that, and perhaps they’d regret this, but that didn’t matter right now. Only touch existed in that room, heavy breathing filling up the little space that was left between them, until their outlines blended together so smoothly, Louis felt lost in this dream-like state.

He tugged on a handful of curls, needing the feel of it to get a grip on himself, but it did the exact opposite. He had both his legs between Harry’s now, and he marvelled at the lack of curves. Louis ran his hand down a flat chest, downdowndown, until he reached bony hips that weren’t quite as round as what he was used to.

He explored that body, tracing contours and chasing shadows.

Harry was more enthusiastic in that regard than he’d expected. Limbs flailing around without a direct purpose, reaching and grabbing at flesh and muscle. Searching and discovering new territory. One of his heels dug into the back of Louis’ knee, and he sunk down, closing the gap carefully. There was a hardness pressing against his belly that he hadn’t taken into consideration, and it took him by surprise.

A groan was torn from his lips when Harry pushed his hips upwards. Experimentally, he mirrored it. The friction provided by their boxers was maddening, the new feeling sending shivers down his sweaty spine. Louis had no clue about what he was doing, what he should be doing. Normally, he’d be reaching down right about now, getting ready for some serious action, but this, with Harry? He didn’t even dare move his hand back to Harry’s hip.

Weariness was still present, and the passionate kisses and the grinding grew sluggish in nature, sleepiness returning ever so slowly. Underneath the covers, the all consuming heat receded, until just a pleasant warmth remained. Fatiqued or not, there was no stopping anymore, what with the rational thinking thrown out of the window. It was just Harry and Louis, two boys, friends, and a lazy road to satisfaction.

Louis had so many words he wanted to say, but Harry took them all, kissed them away one after another, and he realised there was no need for them. There were hands, everywhere, claiming and owning up to one previously made. Lips sealing a promise about their continued silence. This moment, he would make it last. Tomorrow, they’d go back to, well, whatever – and it made his heart beat all the more faster.

Yes, just like that.

Control slipped as hips started moving again of their own accord, his thrusts building up in speed and frequency, meeting each other somewhere halfway. Nerves on fire, Louis fought desperately for something to keep him grounded, even as his fingers were tightening their hold and his muscles contracted. He ground his pelvis down one more time, hard, choking on a cry. At last, his mind exploded into a million pieces –

– and all he ever knew, was Harry.