(Louis’ POV)
Things change a little from there. We’re off to America for our headline tour, and suddenly everyone wants an interview with us (Niall has dubbed us the royal couple) and we’re being essentially fought over. Harry and I don’t even bother with it, just let management do their thing and figure this crap out. The fan response is still amazing, still shocking in so many ways. Of course we see some hatred, some slurs and all that, but we just can’t be bothered to take it to heart, as we’re finally happy, and I’m finally whole.
When we arrive in the states and we stop to see the fans, they’re nearly all wearing ‘Love Is Equal’ shirts and Harry and I exchange a surprised and grateful glance and thank them all, making us late, but the boys don’t care because they catch on and do the same, knowing it’s important. We hold hands in public again, and it sends tingles down my spine.
We have a brief interview and along with being asked the usual, boring questions we talk about our relationship, letting out a few tidbits of information (mostly along the lines of “Harry likes to cuddle at night.” And “Louis likes to be carried around, I swear he’s a sloth or something.”) and everyone laughs and smiles. It’s just…good. Really good.
Our first show goes by amazingly, oh so perfect. We sing the usual songs, but this time I don’t have to time my glances at Harry. In fact, I sing directly to him and the crowd goes absolutely wild when I change the lyrics from ‘ginger hair’ to ‘curly hair’ and ‘Valerie’ to ‘Harry’. Haz giggles and blushes, and during our twitter questions he dances with me, spinning me in circles until I’m dizzy, so dizzy, but it’s so perfect.
Everything is just….perfect.
For me.
Apparently not for Harry.
It takes me a few days to cotton on, and I hate myself for it. It’s about the time we get up to Philly that I really see it, blatantly see through his well put together lies and walls. It’s funny to think that it used to be me doing that, used to be me putting up barriers, and now Harry’s doing the exact same thing. It just…startles me.
I first noticed the way he’d been jerking, almost flinching, when I was overly showy with him near the fans. I’d put it down to nerves, but…and I mean, I stopped of course, giving him the room he needed, but the doubt was there. And then I started seeing him frown at his twitter feed, or stutter when someone asked about our relationship. And then his steps faltered when someone shouted an insult, which really wasn’t and isn’t anything new, but he’d never done that, and when asked about it, he’d strung together a stupid see-through lie.
But he avoided me every time. Well guess what?
I’m done waiting.
“Hazza?” I ask that night at our hotel, spinning in an office chair playfully as Harry hangs up the phone after letting Paul know we’d be fine for the night.
“Mm?” He hums, pulling off his Jack Wills hoodie and tossing it on the floor.
“Why are you so upset?” I ask bluntly and he freezes, just for a second, before settling back into his false sense of calm.
“I’m not.” He denies.
“You bloody well are.” I say fiercely, my eyes searching him. He won’t meet my gaze and that unnerves me a bit, because he’s never acted this way before. This is…weird.
“Louis, I swear I’m fine, I dunno what you mean-”
“Stop it Harry!” I nearly shout, impatient and angry. “Stop being dishonest with me! I have never lied to you in this relationship, not once, so why are you avoiding this? Avoiding me? You can’t just do that and then brush it off because you’re scaring me, really scaring me. I’ve never seen you so…off. Just…please. Please, Haz. Stop the lies. Stop it.”
Throughout my little rant, Harry seems to have settled in defeat, leaning against the headboard and pulling his knees up to his chest. It’s a feeble attempt to protect himself, I know it, and once again, it’s just…off.
“You’re right.” He mumbles softly. “C’mere.”
I don’t have to be told twice, hurrying to scamper over and crawl up the bed, sitting beside Harry and crossing my legs patiently. I know how hard it is for him to admit to being upset, I know it makes him feel weak. I know every damn thing about that boy. And so when he exhales shakily, I put a hand on his arm in reassurance.
“I just…I read some things.” Harry starts and I wait patiently, thumbing his pale skin softly. “And people were saying things about us, about me. About you. And it just got me worried. I mean, it wasn’t even so much hatemail, it was more like observations and they just seemed so possible that I got really…worried.”
“Like what?” I ask immediately, scooting closer.
“Like…ugh, I don’t want to tell you.” Harry muttered.
Not once in this entire time has he looked at me, and I find myself missing those gorgeous green eyes, the ones that can calm me down from a nightmare, cheer me up when I’m down, make me feel loved…I miss those.
“Tell me why?” I suggest, and he sags further.
“I suppose because-”
“No, look at me when you tell me. I need to see you.” I say softly.
At first, he glances up and (finally) meets my eyes with confusion, but I assume he understands me, at least understands the need and love I try and pour into my gaze, because he nods, sighs, and his stare remains locked with mine.
“I don’t want to hurt you. After everything you’ve been through, I don’t want to tell you about this and have it push you over the edge, or just make you upset in the first place.” Harry answers, green eyes swirling with doubt.
“Oh, Honey…no. No, I’m not going to be upset. Whatever this is, whatever those idiots said, I can handle it. I may not be the strongest person on earth, but I can take a little heat, especially when I have you and the boys and all our fans to rely on.” I smile.
I lean in and steal a small kiss from him, nudging our noses together playfully in an attempt to lessen any worry he may still hold on to.
“Okay. Yeah. Well, there were a few things. And they were just…it worried me. Some of them were comments about the interview we did with Alan Carr, and others were just, like I said, observations.” Harry explains and I nod.
“Example?” I ask simply.
“Someone said that we’re too clingy.” Harry muttered and dropped his gaze again.
I frown and lift his chin with my finger, the gesture so intimate that it feels like my heart might stop, and he just stares. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“They said that we might get sick of each other. That we might be around each other so much that we fight and need space and I don’t want that, Louis. Never.” Harry admits, voice becoming thick.
Immediately I shake my head, peppering kisses to his cheeks, feeling him chuckle beneath where I’ve propped myself up above him.
“No.” I murmur, putting our foreheads together. “No, never. I could never get sick of you, it’s not gonna happen.”
“But how do you know?” Harry worries aloud, meeting my intense stare of concern.
“Because, babe. This is me and you. Louis and Harry. We could never be apart, we’re ridiculously codependent. I need you with me, I love having you with me. I won’t ever get sick of that.” I say quietly, kissing his nose.
Harry smiles a little, eyes lightening just a bit. Good. He needs to stop with this stupidity.
“Okay?” I ask, and he nods. “Good. Next?”
“Someone commented and said that it seemed like I love you more than you love me. Which is fucking ridiculous. And I don’t know how they think that….I mean, I can’t believe I’m even asking this, but-”
“I love you to the moon and back, Curly. I want to be with you forever. Nobody makes me as happy as you do. I feel safe in your arms and nowhere else. My mum used to say it a lot, and it’s cheesy, but she said that Love is when you feel at home in someone’s arms, even when you’re not.” I interrupt, letting my emotion flow out. My heart clenches as Harry bites his lip. “And you make me feel like that. You’re my home. So anyone who says I don’t absolutely fucking adore you, is daft.”
Harry grins, dimples showing as his eyes well up. He blinks rapidly to stop himself and I snort, muttering an “Of course you’re crying, sap.”
He leans in to kiss me again, this time fierce and full of utter emotion. His knees slide out to fall flat and somehow we end up shimmying down the bed until his curls splay across the pillow, hands gripping my waist in a way that literally makes me shiver. I run my hands through his hair as his tongue enters hungrily, running along the roof off my mouth, and I suck in a gasp that he swallows when his nails dig into my hip. I whimper, shamefully, but Harry pulls away in an instant.
I frown, eyebrows knitting together as I lay on top of him, panting.
“What? Something else you read?” I ask timidly, trying to shove down the hurt that rises in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Lou, I’m really sorry. It’s just…so many people were saying that I was the dominant one in the relationship, which I am, I suppose, but…” Harry trails off, looking at the ceiling and sighing.
“But?”
“But are you okay with that? Is that something you want, something you’re okay with? Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. People were saying that you might not like it, might feel smothered or controlled and I’d never want you to feel like that. Cause I don’t wanna control you, and I-”
“Harry-”
“I just need you to tell me what you think because I know sometimes I go all protective and stuff and I know I’ve kind of pinned you down before when we were snogging and then just now, with me digging my nails in, like, was that even okay? Or am I overstepping boundaries? Cause-”
“Haz-”
“Because I know you like being taken care of and I like taking care of you, but I worry that maybe I take it too far, push it too much when I pick you up and someone was saying that you’re the girl in the relationship which is weird and stupid cause you’re not but then I thought about it and I worried that maybe I was making you feel like that and-”
“Hazza!” I interrupt and he startles out of his fumbled speech, stunning eyes focussing on me.
“What?”
“Shut up for a second and let me talk, yeah?” I tell him, and he just nods. “No, I am not the girl in the relationship. I may be camp, but I’m a guy, and I will stay that way, no matter how many people say otherwise. No, you don’t control me. If I do something you suggest, it’s because I want to. If you told me to go make you a sandwich right now, I’d probably slap you.”
Harry looks away hesitantly, biting his lip and fidgeting behind my back.
“But,” I add firmly. “I like the way things are. I like the way you look after me, it makes me feel special. I like the way you lift me off my feet, and carry me around on your hips. I like being the less dominant one, I like being submissive, if you could call it that. I want you to do everything you do. Trust me, if I had a problem with it, I would have said something. You know how blunt I am.”
Harry chuckles a little, smirking as he licks his lips.
“And I like it when you get protective and all that. Like, I think it’s hot when you pin me down, or grab my hips. In fact, ignoring how embarrassing this is, I’d like if you did it more. In bed or whatever. I…well, actually, I had a thought, and I mean, it’s probably stupid, and the fact that you were worried about simple things probably means you wouldn’t like this, and, I just, well,” It was my turn to ramble, blushing.
Okay. So I have a fantasy about Harry. Who doesn’t? It’s embarrassing and awkward yet literally the hottest thing I can imagine. I just…don’t know how to ask him. I’m not sure if I even should, really.
But he doesn’t give me that option.
“What is it?” Harry asks quickly, stroking his fingers under my shirt to drag along my hip.
“I…it’s…I just…” I stutter, and crap I’m stupid.
“Louis, tell me. You just told me not to lie, so I didn’t. Why can’t you do the same?” Harry asks, trapping me.
I blush, avoiding his gaze. Rolling off him, I lie on my back and sigh loudly. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Just tell me? You know I love you, and I have a feeling I already have an idea of what it is.” Harry suggested, rolling onto his side to smile at me.
“Fine. I just. I like when you pin me down. It’s great, and I can’t help but want more along the same lines….um…don’t laugh okay?” I ask hesitantly, and Harry nods.
“Course.”
“Okay. Sometimes I wish you’d keep me pinned down. Like…tie me up.” I force out, flushing deep red and closing my eyes to avoid further embarrassment.
But something that sounds like a half moan, half whine escapes my boyfriend and I snap them open to see Harry’s eyes darkened with lust, mouth parted.
“You want that?” He asks gently, but there’s such raw force behind it that I nearly shiver.
“Mhm.” I admit, nodding minutely.
I see the change instantly, as well as feel it. Harry’s breath hitches and for a moment, he just stares, pupils growing as he scans over me, rather possessively, and I love it. Then before I know what’s happening he’s rolled onto me, straddling my hips as his hands find my wrists, rubbing fingers there for just a second before moving them beside my head. He pushes down on them firmly and the wriggling feeling in my stomach is so much that I stop breathing for a good few seconds.
“You sure? Cause, if you want, we can do that. Now.” Harry says, voice husky.
I swallow, nodding. “Please.” I say without thinking, and moan when Harry’s hips roll down of apparently their own accord.
“Kay. What am I using?” Harry asks, seeming a little lost. Eager, but lost.
“You’re the dominant one.” I quip quickly, smirking.
“Don’t get cocky, Louis. You’re supposed to be quiet and help me.” Harry banters easily, chuckling, but never losing the dangerous look in his eyes.
“Make me.” I say quickly, but just as quick as it had appeared, the joking mood vanishes and something lustful, primal, hot takes over.
“Yeah.” Harry breathes, and then looks to the floor. I don’t know what his eyes land on but a faint smile flickers across his lips and soon he manoeuvres over to reach off the bed.
He appears back again with a pair of my braces in hand. I raise an eyebrow at him, but sit up to tug off my shirt nonetheless, flinging it to who knows where.
“Really?” I ask, slightly amused, sort of surprised, and really, really turned on.
“Well, yeah. If you don’t think it’ll hurt you.” Harry says, tone still lust blown, but with an underside of such incredible caring that it makes my heart swell.
“Won’t.” I manage to say.
“But your scars-”
“Are nearly gone now. I want this. Want you.” I stutter out, pink cheeked. Harry nods.
I take my hands and put my wrists together above my head, a silent invitation. It feels like I’m offering everything to him, and I am, really. It feels perfect.
Harry takes the braces and loops them through one of the gaps in the elaborate headboard. Then he takes my wrists, ever so gently, and wraps the tense material around my wrists. It tightens rhythmically as Hazza ties the knot.
When he pulls away, satisfied, he smirks darkly, quirking an eyebrow. I test my binds out hesitantly, twisting to and fro in an effort to loosen them, but I am utterly, completely trapped. Stuck. And I love it. My stomach twists with cold anticipation and just the thought of Harry having his way with me, dominating, keeping me tied to the bed…well, soon I’m achingly hard and flustered.
Harry just stares at me, scanning my face. Then, without warning, he grinds his hips down and I keen, biting my lip in an effort to silence myself.
“No.” Harry shakes his head, leaning in to kiss me hungrily. I stay submissive, liking the new side to this, but still respond. “I want to hear you.”
Oh god. My body betrays me and arches upwards, brushing our crotches together tightly as I pant, far too into this for my own good.
“Mm, like that do we Lou? Want me to do just as I want? You don’t have much of a choice, you know.” Harry talks, tone filthy as he unbuckles my belt and tugs down my jeans, throwing them behind him.
It should be embarrassing, how hard I am through my boxers, hips writhing in need of something, anything. A whine escapes me as he steps back to pull off his sweatpants, kicking off his own boxers as well.
“You’ll take anything, wont you?” Harry observes, voice dark.
His fingers trail over my stomach and leave goose bumps as they go, occasionally digging in his nails as he explores.
“Please.” I utter before I even realize it and he smirks despite his obviously incredibly turned on state.
His fingers hook under the waistband, brushing the heated skin and making me jump a little. I can’t make eye contact as I try to steady my thumping heart, breathing through my nose. And then Harry pulls them off, brushing against me as he does, discarding the boxers somewhere I could care less about.
As he lies down on top of me, trapping me further, his lips find the sensitive spot behind my ear and he kisses it, opening his mouth to let his teeth graze over the skin there and I press against him desperately, gasping before I whimper. Whimper.
“Mine.” Harry breathes into my ear and holy shit I’m not gonna last long at all if he keeps this up.
And as he kisses and bites down my chest, stomach, hips and then lower, I find myself moaning out one word.
“Yours.”