After he’s been out with Eleanor, Harry fucks him harder. Fucks him like he owns him. And Louis loves it, even when it hurts. That’s the best part. Because it’s after Eleanor that he hates himself the most. Hates himself for not having the guts to tell the truth. Hates himself for making Harry lie. Hates himself for letting management be the bullies and tell him what he has to do with his life.
“For your own good.” They say.
But no, this is for his own good. Harry’s cock sliding in and out of his tight hole, his body clenched tight around it. It’s Harry’s lips upon his neck and the warmth that spills love over his collarbones. Harry’s fingers touching him, and teasing him, and Louis grabbing at Harry’s wrists to put them where he’s wants them. This is what good really is.
“Tell me I’m yours Haz. Please.” Louis asks. And he would beg for it over and over.
Harry’s voice next to his ear is like a climax all it’s own. “You’re mine, Lou. Only mine.”
He might cry if it didn’t make him feel completely stupid.
Harry’s fingers lace into Louis’ and Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s torso, pulling him as close as he can get. The feeling of Harry filling him up inside makes Louis’ eyes roll back and his lips part in a silent noise that Harry actually stops to watch.
“Don’t stop. I’m so close.” Louis makes a small whine in his throat, his eyes sad and wanton and Harry melts.
“Sweet talk later Harry, come on.”
And Harry chuckles, soft and low.
Their bodies make a rhythm together, like the music they know so well. They are like the notes and the crescendo. They find each other in the centre of gravity, Louis clings to Harry as his orgasm rocks his body, and he falls back to earth. Harry kisses him all the way down.
In the aftermath, as the room cools down Louis is thankful for these moments. This is when he feels the most real. When he can look at Harry and belong to Harry, and put away all thoughts of having to pretend through Eleanor. Someday they won’t have to pretend anymore, he knows. But for now, Louis just pulls Harry close to him, breathes in his familiar scent, and lets the guilt wash away until the next time, when he knows Harry will make it better.