you're cold and I burn (on hold)

are never a rarity.
“I was just thirsty.”
“Annoying,” Harry makes a disgusted face, “you <strong>and</strong> your basic human needs.”
“Get over it,” Louis’ h<strong>and</strong>s tighten to press into the layer of soft skin hanging delicately over the
b<strong>and</strong> of Harry’s sweats. Usually, nights go pretty much the same with couch-<strong>and</strong>-television-time.
But Harry’s been more touchy, <strong>and</strong> so has Louis.
Harry keeps swaying back <strong>and</strong> forth, his eyes jumping from Louis’ own eyes to his lips, making it
clear <strong>and</strong> obvious he’s wanting Louis to kiss him. So, he does. He leans up onto his tip-toes,
pressing them together, the heat of Harry’s breath fanning over his face. It sweet, always so sweet.
H<strong>and</strong>s are gentle as they glide up the fabric, Harry shuddering with the warmth.
Louis’ fingertips go to trace patterns, while his lips press in a little deeper, tasting Harry in full <strong>and</strong>
loving every moment of it. There has never been a feeling quite like kissing Harry. Like all of
Louis’ nerves are on fire <strong>and</strong> his limbs are tingling <strong>and</strong> wild. His every movement is unthought
<strong>and</strong> steady, perfect, memorizing every little curve, dip, of Harry’s body.
Harry’s hum vibrates all the way down Louis’ throat <strong>and</strong> settles deep into his core, igniting it.
Louis’ nails instinctively dig in, causing Harry to bite down on Louis’ lips, electricity shooting up
his spine, breathing halted. It’s nearly impossible for Louis not to slam him back against the
counter, take things to the next level. But, he’s taking it slow, bracing himself <strong>and</strong> Harry. When it
comes to the repair of something broken, it’s important to take time.
Harry, unfortunately, doesn’t agree.
He’s made it more than obvious, his desires, <strong>and</strong> Louis’ throat dries out <strong>and</strong> his h<strong>and</strong>s sweat
because as much as he hates to say the word ‘no’ to Harry, he’s willing to let him down in order to
hold off, make sure it’s the right move. Louis’ always had a habit of overthinking.
“How much longer are you going to tease me, Louis?” Harry asks into the kiss.
“I’m not teasing you.” Louis fires back, playfully, stepping into Harry <strong>and</strong> pressing his back
against the refrigerator, “just a little bit of fun.”
“It’d be more fun if we were naked.”
At that, Louis' mouth drops into a wide open smile, “Harry! Calm yourself, what did I tell you
about taking things slow?”
“Listen,” Harry breathes, “you want it, I definitely want it, <strong>and</strong> I know you can deliver it just the
way I like it. So, why wait?”
“Because I said so,” Louis tilts his head, blinking innocently, “There will come a day where you’ll
be anticipating the sore you’ll feel the next day. But not yet.”
Harry huffs, shoulders slumping, “You’re a tease.”
“And you’re so damn adorable.” Louis smiles, bringing his h<strong>and</strong> to cup Harry’s cheek. He leans
his face into the touch. “I just want to be sure, I want you to be sure. We’ve only just established
this as something, we have a long time, no need to rush, Harry.”
“Your sweet words do nothing for me when this is a thing,” Harry glances down at the bulge