igrab
in
grabi_hands
✬ Centrifugal Motion, Perpetual Bliss • Harry/Louis
Centrifugal Motion, Perpetual Bliss
Harry/Louis
• for aimmyarrowshigh again because ilher
They couldn't consider it their first kiss. Their first kiss would happen years later, when Louis finally pulled his head out of his ass and Harry finally pulled his dick out of everyone else, when they stood up on national telly and told the world the truth. That, then, would be their first kiss. Chaste and sweet and a little awkward, but still somehow perfect.
This was not that kiss.
They were in the ladies' room, because Harry figured they'd mind less, and also it was closer and he wasn't in any mood to be choosy. Louis certainly wasn't complaining. He needed him like air, like fire, like music. And for some reason, this beautiful slim slip of a boy seemed to want him just as much. Enough to drag him off just minutes after they'd become a band, become a thing, and Louis had jumped on him. He had poor impulse control, and he was just so happy. To be part of something, yes. to be part of something with Harry Styles in it? A thousand times yes.
So they were in the ladies' room, and that was the last Louis knew of sense, because this was not their first kiss.
It was everything a first kiss shouldn't've been. Deep. Hot. Passionate. Harry slicked his tongue along the thin line of Louis' lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth with an obscene wet noise. His fingers pressed little burning holes into his arms, his shoulders, his back, and then Louis' legs wrapped right around Harry's waist and without thinking, he lifted him just like he had before, to set him on the counter.
From there, Louis could lean in deeper. Press harder. Cup the back of Harry's head, fist a hand in his curls - and that drew a choked little moan, which he smirked and filed away for later. He claimed his mouth, his own tongue running reckless through him, then bit at those plush curving lips until they were red and raw and Harry was shaking. Shaking. Literally quivering in Louis' skinny arms, and what had he done to deserve this? He didn't, he didn't, he didn't. But he pulled on Harry's hair, pulled back til he could meet his eyes, and Harry's face glazed over for the slightest of seconds. I'd let you do anything to me, that look said, and it shot straight down to Louis' cock. Anything.
"We should," he muttered, because Harry was putty in his hands and the little he knew about Harry Styles indicated he wouldn't be the voice of reason any time soon. "Y'know."
"Fuck," Harry murmured, and the word rippled like liquid fire. "Mmkay. Later?" He touched Louis' face with those hands, all pale and soft and fine-boned, and it was Louis' turn to melt.
"Yeah," he muttered, his voice thick and low. "Yeah. I. Later."
It wasn't their first kiss, not by a long shot. But it was the first time their lips met, and it was shocking, how perfectly normal it seemed.
Harry/Louis
• for aimmyarrowshigh again because ilher
They couldn't consider it their first kiss. Their first kiss would happen years later, when Louis finally pulled his head out of his ass and Harry finally pulled his dick out of everyone else, when they stood up on national telly and told the world the truth. That, then, would be their first kiss. Chaste and sweet and a little awkward, but still somehow perfect.
This was not that kiss.
They were in the ladies' room, because Harry figured they'd mind less, and also it was closer and he wasn't in any mood to be choosy. Louis certainly wasn't complaining. He needed him like air, like fire, like music. And for some reason, this beautiful slim slip of a boy seemed to want him just as much. Enough to drag him off just minutes after they'd become a band, become a thing, and Louis had jumped on him. He had poor impulse control, and he was just so happy. To be part of something, yes. to be part of something with Harry Styles in it? A thousand times yes.
So they were in the ladies' room, and that was the last Louis knew of sense, because this was not their first kiss.
It was everything a first kiss shouldn't've been. Deep. Hot. Passionate. Harry slicked his tongue along the thin line of Louis' lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth with an obscene wet noise. His fingers pressed little burning holes into his arms, his shoulders, his back, and then Louis' legs wrapped right around Harry's waist and without thinking, he lifted him just like he had before, to set him on the counter.
From there, Louis could lean in deeper. Press harder. Cup the back of Harry's head, fist a hand in his curls - and that drew a choked little moan, which he smirked and filed away for later. He claimed his mouth, his own tongue running reckless through him, then bit at those plush curving lips until they were red and raw and Harry was shaking. Shaking. Literally quivering in Louis' skinny arms, and what had he done to deserve this? He didn't, he didn't, he didn't. But he pulled on Harry's hair, pulled back til he could meet his eyes, and Harry's face glazed over for the slightest of seconds. I'd let you do anything to me, that look said, and it shot straight down to Louis' cock. Anything.
"We should," he muttered, because Harry was putty in his hands and the little he knew about Harry Styles indicated he wouldn't be the voice of reason any time soon. "Y'know."
"Fuck," Harry murmured, and the word rippled like liquid fire. "Mmkay. Later?" He touched Louis' face with those hands, all pale and soft and fine-boned, and it was Louis' turn to melt.
"Yeah," he muttered, his voice thick and low. "Yeah. I. Later."
It wasn't their first kiss, not by a long shot. But it was the first time their lips met, and it was shocking, how perfectly normal it seemed.