Call Me Baby: Chapter 5 part B's part B
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*~*~*~*
Harry panted hard, the sweat beading on his neck. Cool fingers gripped his curls, the pads of the other man’s fingers burning into his skin with each tug and caress. Harry pushed him harder into the wall, his hips gyrating into the other man’s pelvis. He leant down, nipping at the man’s jaw, his teeth catching the skin, and a faint shadow of stubble scraping against his lips. The man keened, digging his hands further into Harry’s hair, his head tilted back against the wall. Harry looked up at him through his eyelashes, drinking in the feathered fringe and delicate cheek bones. The man noticed his pause, opening his eyes and looking down at Harry with the bluest eyes Harry’d ever seen.
Louis tugged at Harry’s curls, urging him to continue his ministrations. The action tore a groan from Harry’s throat, his hips jerking and colliding more violently with Louis’ own groin, before he dropped his head into the crook of Louis’ neck.
He pushed his nose into the skin behind Louis’ ear, the smell so sweet that he couldn’t help but poke his tongue out and taste it. Louis whined, high in the back of his throat, and Harry smirked, his tongue reappearing and licking a flat stripe behind Louis’ ear, lapping at the skin like a cat. The actions made Louis roll his hips, his eyes slipping closed, and Harry responded by lifting him against the wall, Louis’ legs automatically wrapping around Harry’s waist.
Harry moaned, the new angle allowing him a lot more access. He shoved his groin up into Louis’ again, almost passing out at the sensations this caused. Going back to Louis’ neck, he began to suck, feeling the skin pull away from the flesh and glance off his teeth. He released, soothing the bruise with his tongue. Louis squirmed, his back arching a little bit as he bore his hips down on Harry’s. Louis craned his neck around, his lips brushing Harry’s ear.
“Harry,” he whispered urgently, “Harry… Harry, wake up. C’mon, Harry.”
That didn’t make sense. Why was Louis telling him to wake up-they were just getting to the good part.
“Harry… Oh, for goodness’ sake! Harry, you are not a dog, please wake up and stop humping my leg,” Louis’ voice sounded amused and exasperated, the sound jarring Harry, and
Waking him with a start.
The first thing he noticed was that he was achingly hard. The second thing he noticed was Louis’ face peering amusedly at him. He tapped Harry on the chest.
“I think you need to go in the bathroom and-er-take care of yourself,” he smirked, “you can come back when you’re sorted.”
Harry groaned, humiliation coursing through his veins. God, he thought, what is the matter with you, Styles? He rolled out of the bed, waddling uncomfortably to the bathroom next to Louis’ room, pointedly ignoring Louis’ snickering coming from the bedroom.
He shut the door, turning the lock to make sure he wasn’t interrupted-he’d had enough embarrassment for one night.
Shoving his hands into his boxers, he groaned, trying desperately not to think about the man waiting for him in the bedroom. Oh, God-he’s waiting for me in the bedroom. That could easily be a euphemism.The thought tore another groan from his mouth and he quickly shucked his boxers-he didn’t much feel like having to get new ones afterwards, as that would no doubt send Louis into a fit of giggles.
He went and sat in the tub, the cool porcelain soothing his burning skin. His hands worked quickly-twisting and tugging and dragging-his breathing becoming ragged and uneven with each pull of his fingers. Louis’ face swam in his mind’s eye, at first seeing the Louis from his dream, the image sending fire through his veins and scorching his skin, before the image morphed into his Louis. The Louis that cracked a joke whenever the opportunity arose, the Louis who loved his sisters more than anything else, the Louis that was fierce and loving and beautiful. The Louis that told him he loved him on a daily basis. He could hear the words, whispered in his ear like a caress. I love you.
It was with this thought that he came, his back arching off the ceramic bath tub, a strangled groan wrenching itself from his throat. He slumped back against the tub, his muscles lax, utter exhaustion leaking into his bones.
Looking at the wall, he groaned. He’d made a right mess, hadn’t he? He sighed, standing up and pulling the shower curtain closed, before turning the water on. Splashing a bit of water on the wall to clean up his mess, he contemplated what this could possibly mean.
There was really only was conclusion, and he was a fool for trying to deny it before. He was falling in love with his best friend.
This was absolutely not okay. He couldn’t do that. Not just because he wasn’t gay, but-quite apart from anything else-Louis was his best friend, and he needed him to keep him together, not tear him apart. Which is what falling in love with a best friend inevitably lead to-if the feelings weren’t returned, this could potentially destroy both of them.
Harry turned a little, letting the water pound into his shoulder blades. On the other hand, if the feelingwas mutual-no. That was not a road he could go down-it would lead to hope, and hope lead to heartbreak.
He turned the shower knobs roughly, switching off the water, and stepping out into the bathroom. He toweled himself off quickly, before stepping back into his boxers. He unlocked the door, stumbling slightly into the darkness of the hallway, and trudged back to Louis’ room. He eased the door open, seeing Louis on the bed with his back to him. He stepped quietly, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboard near the bed, and sidestepping all the clothes that littered the floor. He moved the covers back, sliding into the bed behind Louis. Louis mumbled a bit in his sleep, stirring a bit and rolling over, tucking his head underneath Harry’s.
“Have a good wank, love?” he murmured into Harry’s neck. Harry felt his cheeks flame with mortification. He groaned.
“You are never gonna let me live this down, are you?” he asked him. He felt Louis’ smirked brush against his jugular.
“No,” Louis snickered, “it’s far too funny. Now go to sleep. And don’t wake me up again-try to control yourself, yeah?” Harry rolled his eyes, carefully settling his arms around Louis’ waist.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, you loon,” he muttered.
*~*~*~*
The next morning was unbelievably awkward for Harry. Louis didn’t seem to see anything wrong with teasing him blatantly in front of everyone-including his mum. Every other sentence out of his mouth contained some kind of cleverly disguised euphemism, and Harry’s face had not gone back to its normal color.
After a painfully long breakfast, Louis announced that he was going to go take a shower, shooting Harry a wink as he sauntered out of the room. Harry’s mum, of course, had seen the exchange and pulled Harry into the kitchen.
“Mum, I have to help Daisy and Phoebe get ready for school,” he protested feebly, “We have to go in fifteen minutes.” His mum rolled her eyes.
“Harry, I think you can spare a minute to talk to your mum,” she told him sternly, “So explain to me: when did you and Louis start sleeping together?”
“Wh-what? What are you talking about?” he spluttered, “I’m not sleeping with Louis! Well, I mean, I am, but not in a sexual way.”
“Harry, something happened last night,” his mum stated, “and you’re going to tell me what it was.”
“Er…” he shifted awkwardly, “I-uh-may have… I may have had a… Er… Dream last night, and-oh, God. I can’t tell you this!”
“You had a sex dream about him, didn’t you?”
“I-no!” he exclaimed hastily, “No-I most certainly did not-okay, yeah, I did.” His mother rolled her eyes.
“God, this is so embarrassing. I dreamed that I was-you know… With him, and I, uh, started… Humping him?” His mother pressed her lips together in poorly disguised amusement, nodding for him to continue.
“Well,” he sighed, “Louis woke up. And then he woke me up. And told me to-uh-take care of myself, and come back when I was ‘sorted’.”
“And so you did, you went and sorted yourself, and then you went and you got back in bed with him.”
Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He never thought he’d be talking about this with his mother. He loved her, and trusted her advice and opinion, but this was crossing a line. His mother wasn’t supposed to know that he was jerking off-ever. Just… Just no.
“Harry, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it honestly,” his mum looked at him carefully, “Are you in love with Louis?” Harry closed his eyes in embarrassment, sighing.
“No, but I reckon I’m getting there,” he mumbled quietly. Anne sighed, her son sounded so down about it.
“This isn’t a bad thing, Harry. You know no one will mind if you like him,” she told him gently. He looked at her defeatedly.
“That’s not true. He might. I can’t lose him, mum. I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all,” he whispered sadly. Her eyes softened, and she opened her mouth to tell him just what she thought of that, when Daisy came in the kitchen, holding her shoes out. Harry turned to his mum, after accepting the shoes, saying, “I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to get the girls get ready to go-they’ve got school, and I’ve got work. We’ll talk later, I promise.”
He kissed her cheek, then followed Daisy to the stairs, where Phoebe was seated. He set Daisy’s shoes down, bending over and tying Phoebe’s shoes first, before lifting Daisy up onto the stairs and tying hers. The three of them shouted goodbyes down the hallway, getting their bags and going off to school.
*~*~*~*
Harry panted hard, the sweat beading on his neck. Cool fingers gripped his curls, the pads of the other man’s fingers burning into his skin with each tug and caress. Harry pushed him harder into the wall, his hips gyrating into the other man’s pelvis. He leant down, nipping at the man’s jaw, his teeth catching the skin, and a faint shadow of stubble scraping against his lips. The man keened, digging his hands further into Harry’s hair, his head tilted back against the wall. Harry looked up at him through his eyelashes, drinking in the feathered fringe and delicate cheek bones. The man noticed his pause, opening his eyes and looking down at Harry with the bluest eyes Harry’d ever seen.
Louis tugged at Harry’s curls, urging him to continue his ministrations. The action tore a groan from Harry’s throat, his hips jerking and colliding more violently with Louis’ own groin, before he dropped his head into the crook of Louis’ neck.
He pushed his nose into the skin behind Louis’ ear, the smell so sweet that he couldn’t help but poke his tongue out and taste it. Louis whined, high in the back of his throat, and Harry smirked, his tongue reappearing and licking a flat stripe behind Louis’ ear, lapping at the skin like a cat. The actions made Louis roll his hips, his eyes slipping closed, and Harry responded by lifting him against the wall, Louis’ legs automatically wrapping around Harry’s waist.
Harry moaned, the new angle allowing him a lot more access. He shoved his groin up into Louis’ again, almost passing out at the sensations this caused. Going back to Louis’ neck, he began to suck, feeling the skin pull away from the flesh and glance off his teeth. He released, soothing the bruise with his tongue. Louis squirmed, his back arching a little bit as he bore his hips down on Harry’s. Louis craned his neck around, his lips brushing Harry’s ear.
“Harry,” he whispered urgently, “Harry… Harry, wake up. C’mon, Harry.”
That didn’t make sense. Why was Louis telling him to wake up-they were just getting to the good part.
“Harry… Oh, for goodness’ sake! Harry, you are not a dog, please wake up and stop humping my leg,” Louis’ voice sounded amused and exasperated, the sound jarring Harry, and
Waking him with a start.
The first thing he noticed was that he was achingly hard. The second thing he noticed was Louis’ face peering amusedly at him. He tapped Harry on the chest.
“I think you need to go in the bathroom and-er-take care of yourself,” he smirked, “you can come back when you’re sorted.”
Harry groaned, humiliation coursing through his veins. God, he thought, what is the matter with you, Styles? He rolled out of the bed, waddling uncomfortably to the bathroom next to Louis’ room, pointedly ignoring Louis’ snickering coming from the bedroom.
He shut the door, turning the lock to make sure he wasn’t interrupted-he’d had enough embarrassment for one night.
Shoving his hands into his boxers, he groaned, trying desperately not to think about the man waiting for him in the bedroom. Oh, God-he’s waiting for me in the bedroom. That could easily be a euphemism.The thought tore another groan from his mouth and he quickly shucked his boxers-he didn’t much feel like having to get new ones afterwards, as that would no doubt send Louis into a fit of giggles.
He went and sat in the tub, the cool porcelain soothing his burning skin. His hands worked quickly-twisting and tugging and dragging-his breathing becoming ragged and uneven with each pull of his fingers. Louis’ face swam in his mind’s eye, at first seeing the Louis from his dream, the image sending fire through his veins and scorching his skin, before the image morphed into his Louis. The Louis that cracked a joke whenever the opportunity arose, the Louis who loved his sisters more than anything else, the Louis that was fierce and loving and beautiful. The Louis that told him he loved him on a daily basis. He could hear the words, whispered in his ear like a caress. I love you.
It was with this thought that he came, his back arching off the ceramic bath tub, a strangled groan wrenching itself from his throat. He slumped back against the tub, his muscles lax, utter exhaustion leaking into his bones.
Looking at the wall, he groaned. He’d made a right mess, hadn’t he? He sighed, standing up and pulling the shower curtain closed, before turning the water on. Splashing a bit of water on the wall to clean up his mess, he contemplated what this could possibly mean.
There was really only was conclusion, and he was a fool for trying to deny it before. He was falling in love with his best friend.
This was absolutely not okay. He couldn’t do that. Not just because he wasn’t gay, but-quite apart from anything else-Louis was his best friend, and he needed him to keep him together, not tear him apart. Which is what falling in love with a best friend inevitably lead to-if the feelings weren’t returned, this could potentially destroy both of them.
Harry turned a little, letting the water pound into his shoulder blades. On the other hand, if the feelingwas mutual-no. That was not a road he could go down-it would lead to hope, and hope lead to heartbreak.
He turned the shower knobs roughly, switching off the water, and stepping out into the bathroom. He toweled himself off quickly, before stepping back into his boxers. He unlocked the door, stumbling slightly into the darkness of the hallway, and trudged back to Louis’ room. He eased the door open, seeing Louis on the bed with his back to him. He stepped quietly, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboard near the bed, and sidestepping all the clothes that littered the floor. He moved the covers back, sliding into the bed behind Louis. Louis mumbled a bit in his sleep, stirring a bit and rolling over, tucking his head underneath Harry’s.
“Have a good wank, love?” he murmured into Harry’s neck. Harry felt his cheeks flame with mortification. He groaned.
“You are never gonna let me live this down, are you?” he asked him. He felt Louis’ smirked brush against his jugular.
“No,” Louis snickered, “it’s far too funny. Now go to sleep. And don’t wake me up again-try to control yourself, yeah?” Harry rolled his eyes, carefully settling his arms around Louis’ waist.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, you loon,” he muttered.
*~*~*~*
The next morning was unbelievably awkward for Harry. Louis didn’t seem to see anything wrong with teasing him blatantly in front of everyone-including his mum. Every other sentence out of his mouth contained some kind of cleverly disguised euphemism, and Harry’s face had not gone back to its normal color.
After a painfully long breakfast, Louis announced that he was going to go take a shower, shooting Harry a wink as he sauntered out of the room. Harry’s mum, of course, had seen the exchange and pulled Harry into the kitchen.
“Mum, I have to help Daisy and Phoebe get ready for school,” he protested feebly, “We have to go in fifteen minutes.” His mum rolled her eyes.
“Harry, I think you can spare a minute to talk to your mum,” she told him sternly, “So explain to me: when did you and Louis start sleeping together?”
“Wh-what? What are you talking about?” he spluttered, “I’m not sleeping with Louis! Well, I mean, I am, but not in a sexual way.”
“Harry, something happened last night,” his mum stated, “and you’re going to tell me what it was.”
“Er…” he shifted awkwardly, “I-uh-may have… I may have had a… Er… Dream last night, and-oh, God. I can’t tell you this!”
“You had a sex dream about him, didn’t you?”
“I-no!” he exclaimed hastily, “No-I most certainly did not-okay, yeah, I did.” His mother rolled her eyes.
“God, this is so embarrassing. I dreamed that I was-you know… With him, and I, uh, started… Humping him?” His mother pressed her lips together in poorly disguised amusement, nodding for him to continue.
“Well,” he sighed, “Louis woke up. And then he woke me up. And told me to-uh-take care of myself, and come back when I was ‘sorted’.”
“And so you did, you went and sorted yourself, and then you went and you got back in bed with him.”
Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He never thought he’d be talking about this with his mother. He loved her, and trusted her advice and opinion, but this was crossing a line. His mother wasn’t supposed to know that he was jerking off-ever. Just… Just no.
“Harry, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it honestly,” his mum looked at him carefully, “Are you in love with Louis?” Harry closed his eyes in embarrassment, sighing.
“No, but I reckon I’m getting there,” he mumbled quietly. Anne sighed, her son sounded so down about it.
“This isn’t a bad thing, Harry. You know no one will mind if you like him,” she told him gently. He looked at her defeatedly.
“That’s not true. He might. I can’t lose him, mum. I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all,” he whispered sadly. Her eyes softened, and she opened her mouth to tell him just what she thought of that, when Daisy came in the kitchen, holding her shoes out. Harry turned to his mum, after accepting the shoes, saying, “I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to get the girls get ready to go-they’ve got school, and I’ve got work. We’ll talk later, I promise.”
He kissed her cheek, then followed Daisy to the stairs, where Phoebe was seated. He set Daisy’s shoes down, bending over and tying Phoebe’s shoes first, before lifting Daisy up onto the stairs and tying hers. The three of them shouted goodbyes down the hallway, getting their bags and going off to school.