Waking up the next morning, I groan at the light. I struggled to sleep last night. I was a bit embarrassed, to be honest. I was finding it harder to sleep by myself. I always had someone sleeping in my bed, even when I was with Jack. Even if it was only the weight of someone else nearby, it soothed me. I thought I'd gotten over it, but having Harry sleep next to me the other night was so comfortable. And if I was being honest, I couldn't get him out of my mind.

Him calling me 'Lou' last night kept rerolling through my head. It was sweet. He only ever called me Louis, and it was kind of formal considering everyone else usually called me Lou. Anyway, I was overthinking it.

I've got this date tonight, as well. What would we do? We hadn't had a 'date' in ages.

And I was very much looking forward to Michaels get together on Saturday. I haven't drank in ages. Which is odd considering how much I needed it before.

I sit up in the bed deciding I need a shower. Thinking about it, puts an oddly erotic thought in my head. I wonder what Harry would look like in a shower. Gulping at the thought, I stand up, scratching my itchy leg.

Well, why couldn't you find out? You have never asked for it, only Harry has.

You want a shower, Harry?

Shower?

Wanna see me wet and naked?

I try and think of ways to ask him. I've never had a shower with anyone. I wonder if he had. It shouldn't be too weird. He'd know what I wanted when I asked. And that was the agreement.

I pull on some boxers, and leave the room. Pushing into Harry's room, I hear him breathing. Looking over, I take in his features, truly relaxed. Hair spread across the pillow and eyelashes spread over his cheeks.

"Harry," I timidly call. I want to back out. I'm never this bold usually. He moves slightly in his sleep but doesn't wake up. "Harry." I call louder.

This time he blinks his green eyes open sleepily, looking around the room until he sees me.

"Yeah?" He grunts, picking his head off the pillow, confused. I swallow. His voice is so deep.

How the fuck am I going to ask him? I've never initiated. What if he rejects me?

"I'm going for a shower," I say, and he sits up, the covers falling to reveal his chest. "Wanna join me?"

He just looks at me, before lowering his eyes to my attire. The sleep hasn't left his eyes, but I see him wake up a little, taking in what I've just said.

"Yeah," He replies, and I breath out a sigh of relief. Thank God. He pushes up out of bed, revealing him to be wearing nothing, and hello. That's awake, too. His hair is everywhere, but some part of me must like that because it awakens me down there. "In here." He says, before moving towards his own shower, clumsily, still not fully awake.

Opening the door, I take in a white bathroom with a shower, toilet and bath. The shower is quite large and I'm glad because it's bigger than mine. We could fit two in there. He turns on the hot water before rubbing his eyes. That's cute. The steam builds up, starting to billow out the door.

He has his eyes closed, standing there. I shouldn't have woken him up. This is bad.

You'll just have to wake him up. I tentatively walk over until I'm right in front of him. He hasn't realised. I gently touch his length before grabbing him. Very brave of me. He sucks in a breath before opening his eyes, looking down at me. He comes to his senses then. He opens the shower door and shoves me in, cascading me in hot water. Rude. My boxers are wet.

The thought leaves me when he joins me, lips meeting mine hard and hot. He shuts the door before grabbing at my hair, desperately moving his mouth against mine. He moans when I press my chest against his, and I groan feeling his erection against mine.

He pushes me against the glass, and an unmanly squeak comes from my mouth at the cold but Harry takes it in, pressing his tongue into my open mouth. Fuck. Our tongues thrash in a heated battle. His hand goes to push down my boxers, nails briefly catching my leg sending shivers up my back.

"I don't have," He says, trying to kiss me at the same time. "Lube."

I'm not using saliva in here. The shower will just wash it away. Fuck it.

My lips leave Harry's, before getting on my knees.

"What are you-," He says, until I take his leaking cock into my mouth and he can't finish the sentence. "Shit."

I'm just going to do Harry. I loved doing this anyway, and I'll wank when I get back to my room. I'm sure Harry would never touch me. He never has. Only my ass.

I give it my all. I take it all the way in, moving my tongue around the head when I remove him, and go in again. A shiver runs down my back, feeling him at my throat, right to my hardness.

Again, I tap his bottom. I need this. I need him to fuck my mouth. I look up at him when he doesn't do it. His eyes are closed, mouth open. I make a sound around him, and tap his bottom harder. He looks down. I push his bottom, and I feel him twitch inside of me.

"Lou," He breathes, and a flutter of a feeling passes through me and I will it away. I close my eyes, and he starts to press into me. Gently in and out, and not going all the way. I've got to change the speed, the deepness. Something.

I move in as he pushes in, forcing him to go in deeper. He gasps, grabbing at my hair with one hand. Opening my eyes, I spot his other hand pressing against the tiles. I grumble, and try to reach for it. He looks down at me, before giving me his hand. Hastily, I press it to the other side of my head. He pulls out. What the fuck? I try to get it back.

"Tell me if it's too much," He says. I roll my eyes, and try to get it again. "Louis!"

"Yeah." I don't recognise my voice, and I take him again because he allows me. Right to the back and he moans. He moves then, testing. The same slow pace as before. I growl in the back of my throat and force him to put it all in. He gets the point then, not changing speed but putting it all in. His fists are hard around my hair, but the hard grip just send hot arousal through my blood. I look up at him. Drips of water flow down his chest, running down his arms and legs. His hair is soaked, stuck to his face and the curls dripping. His eyes are open, burning green and red mouth open in arousal. At our eyes meeting, his thrusts stutter before picking up pace.

"God," He groans and my cock twitches. "I - I don't know how - how you do this." He can barely talk. I grab at his ass, deciding it's time to move things on. I take him then at the same time as his movements. Giving all I have. My nose presses into his pubic hairs with every thrust. He starts moving in and out fast and I moan with approval. He grabs my head and fucks into me with abandon. Yes. This is more like it. I close my eyes and fist at his leg.

"Louis," He moans, still moving and I look up. "Louis, I'm going to - you should move." What? I want every last drop. Has he never? I let the confusion show on my face, not letting him pull  away. His mouth opens. "You're gonna let me. You're gonna let me-,"

With that, he shouts as he comes into my mouth, and I milk every last drop. I swear he nearly pulls my hair out. I release him and swallow what I have, wiping my mouth. I push my wet hair away from my forehead, and stand up.

"Did you swallow that?" He gasps. I raise an eyebrow, and chuckle.

"Of course," I smile. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I've never had anyone..." He trails.

"Wow, really?" I say, surprised. I knew it. "I like it."

"You're amazing," He breathes, moving in and taking my lips. One: I wouldn't, Harry, because I'm sure I taste like semen. Two: we shouldn't be kissing after intimacy. It takes my breath away, however, and I react. "What about you?" He asks, my cock achingly hard between us.

"It's alright," I reply, shrugging. I'm used to this. Jack would leave me like this sometimes. I push out of the shower, eager to get back to my room.

"Hey," Harry says impatiently and I stop, turning back to him. "Let me sort you out. I'm not letting you go."

He comes to stand behind me, and the hairs on my neck stand up. What's he going to do? He presses his hot chest against my back and I take a shuddered breath. Reaching round, I nearly fall over when his large hand grips my aching member, with a shaking hand. My voice squeaks out through the room. I wonder what he's thinking. His hair drips cold water on my neck and it makes me shiver. He moves his hand up and down, slowly, his grip hard. Either way it drives me crazy, and I rest my head back, eyes closed. He brings his other arm through under my arm and over my chest, pulling me close to him. Fucking hell, this is intimate, and extremely arousing. I should push away, but I can't, not when he's stroking me like that.

My heart throbs in my chest at the gentleness, and my breath gets taken completely away when his lips skim my neck and shoulder. He doesn't increase the pace at all. My breaths are laboured, and I hear them echo in the room. He rests his face against my neck, and unconsciously my face turns to press against his. We don't kiss. I feel my heart thumping in my chest and I feel the coil in my stomach winding. Both my arms come up to hug at Harry's arm around me with a whimper, and he pulls me in closer, securing me. My breaths are coming out louder, embarrassingly loud and my toes curl in.

With a cry, I release, sweet and hot up against my own chest, and Harry holds me up when a knee gives in. He doesn't let go until I get my breath back, keeping our close position.

Coming to my senses, I have to leave. That was too intimate. Too close. Harry beats me to it, letting go of me.

"I'm going to actually wash because I've got a session with the guys," He says, awkwardly scratching his neck.

"I - yeah, me too," I say. What? "I mean, I have somewhere to be, not a session with the lads." I cough. Get out of here now, Louis.

"Okay, see you later." He says, effectively dismissing me. I pick up my wet boxers and leave.

What the fuck was that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, I meet Harry in the lounge to leave for our 'date'. Lou has been and dressed me fashionably, yet warmly for our date. She's messed up my hair a bit, spraying it in place. I can't believe my stubble. She won't let me shave it off. Harry never complains. I'm wearing skinny jeans with my high tops, a jumper that's too big and a fleece jean jacket.

Harry stands there in a green jumper, skinny jeans and boots. Looking up at me, he shrugs on a long black coat. He looks comfortable and completely gorgeous.

"Hi," I say awkwardly. We haven't seen each other since this morning.

"You look nice." Harry says. I do? Play it cool, don't let him know it affects you.

"Really? I thought I needed a shave," I chuckle, rubbing my chin. He smiles.

"Nah, it suits you," He replies. "You ready?"

"What's the plan?"

"Ice skating," He smiles. Jesus Christ. The worry must show on my face because Harry smirks. "What's wrong?"

"Great, no, nothing," I laugh, uneasily. "I love late trips to A and E."

"You won't be that bad," He chuckles. "I'll hold you up."

Something about that sentence reminds me of him holding me against the wall, sending a small wave of arousal to my pants.

"I don't doubt that," I reply, smiling a little. He gets the double meaning, dimples showing.

"If we weren't leaving, I'd like to demonstrate." He smirks. Okay. Leave me completely hard won't you, Harold.

"I'd like that," I breath. He walks until he's close to me.

"Don't tease me," He says, eyes blown. Fuck.

"You started it," I reply. He's incredibly close. "I'm fucking hard now."

"You are?" He smirks. He grabs my hand, bringing it down to palm at his length through his trousers. He's hard, too, and it makes me take in a breath at the boldness he has. By reflex I grab it hard, and the smile falls off his face. "Fuck."

He grabs my hair to kiss me, but we're interrupted by a loud knock at his door. Our lips touching, breathing against each other neither of us move away. I groan, hand still on his cock. Rude. The door knocks again. Harry moans as he pulls away.

"Later," He promises, and tried to straighten himself out, and goes to get the door. Our driver is here.

Definitely later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We have food before we go ice skating, going to a nearby restaurant. Harry sits opposite me in a plain shirt, eating his food. I have a steak. I bloody love steak.

"Are you enjoying that?" He laughs.

"Mmm." Is the sound I make. It only succeeds in making him laugh louder. I like his laugh, dimples highlighting his face. I have to roll up my sleeves for the tenth time. This jumper is massive.

"Is that my jumper?" He suddenly asks, looking down. I look at my sleeves, shrugging.

"Lou dressed me," I reply. "It is incredibly big though, so it must be yours."

He just smiles and doesn't say anything. He finishes way before me, and watches me finish mine. I feel a little uncomfortable. I'm wearing his clothes. He doesn't seem angry. I finish eating and look up at him.

"I'm sorry," I say. His face changes to confusion.

"About...?" He cocks his head.

"Your jumper. I didn't know." I say, a little embarrassed.

"I don't mind," He smirks. "It looks good on you."

I feel myself blush at the uneasiness. Me. Louis Tomlinson, fucking blushing. I look away, and take a gulp of my coke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now move your other leg," Harry instructs. Easier said than done. My left leg moves, scraping against the ice. My body is so unsure of the slipperiness, my arms flailing to steady myself. "That's alright. Keep going."

Okay. I'm all the way on the ice now. I'm ready for any accident. My eyes do not leave the ground.

"Hey," Harry says, lifting my chin and looking into my panicked eyes. "I'm here. Hold onto my hands."

My heart skips a beat. Fucking heart. Stop it. He takes my gloves hand in his, and gently coaxes me to move with him. How can he even move on this ice?

He pulls me gently, and I try to keep my legs moving like he showed me. I make a sound in my throat when a slip a little, catching myself. He turns to me laughing.

"Don't laugh at me," I chuckle. I know it's funny.

"I can't help it. You're so cute," He replies. Cute?

"I'm not fucking cute. Louis Tomlinson is never cute," I grumble. He laughs again.

"Never," He says, pretending to agree with me. "Come on. Let's have some fun."

Fun?

My mind sets to panic mode when he tugs me harder, and he skates quickly. I shout out. He keeps going, laughing to himself. Hilarious. I try to keep up. He suddenly stop, and I keep going. He then spins me into him, knocking the breath out of me.

He chuckles to himself, looking at the fear in my eyes.

"Hey," He says, gently cupping my face. Oh yeah, we're on a date. I still can't stop the way my heart jumps in my chest at the touch. "I said I've got you."

He leans in and I try to prepare myself. I truly do. I know this isn't going to be like our usual kisses. His lips meet mine gently, wrapping themselves around. They move sweetly and warmly against mine, knocking the breath out of me. Nothing about this is heated, and nothing about this is sexual. It's all for the date, but somehow is all romance.

He pulls away and I swallow. He's making this incredibly hard for me. He really is. Our eyes don't leave each other's until a child shouts nearby, breaking us from our reverie.

He suddenly pulls me, continuing the date. He doesn't say anything.

We laugh and skate for another 20 minutes. By the end I'm desperate to get off. I hate the idea of falling over. Saying that, in my haste to get off the ice, I move quickly and slip, kneeing the wall hard. I hiss, loudly.

"Lou," Harry shouts out. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I manage. Harry rapidly tries to check my over. "Just hurts."

"Come on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry asks when we get back to his. "You're not walking properly."

"It stings." I reply.

"Let me see." He asks.

"I'll have to take my trousers off. I can't pull them up." I say to him. He huffs.

"Let me see your knee," He replies, arms crossed. Complying, I undo my jeans, tugging them down revealing a bloody knee. "Louis." He sighs.

"Oh," I just say. Touching it, I wince.

"Don't touch it. Stay there. I'll get my first aid kit." He says, and doesn't give me time to say not to bother. I pull the jeans completely off. They'll need to be washed anyway.

Harry comes back with a green box and I sit on his sofa. I lay back. I'm embarrassed. He sits beside me, opening the box of tricks.

"This will probably hurt," He says, looking down at me. I groan. Of course it will.

He swipes at the knee with a wipe, and I hiss sitting forward rapidly. He pushes me back by the chest with a steady hand and continues to clean it. Jesus, that actually hurts.

"It's not bleeding very badly," He tells me, and I open my eyes. I hadn't realised I'd closed them. "I'll put a small plaster on."

Once he's done that, he allows me to sit up.

"Thanks," I say, scratching at my stomach. I look up at him. He isn't looking at me. Well, he is. Just not my face. He looks at where my boxers are revealed under this incredibly long jumper. "Oi, my face is up here."

"It's later," Is all he says, and all of my thoughts shift to sex. I remember the way we left things earlier and a wave of sharp arousal runs through me. It feels like breathing in flames.

"It is," I reply, not recognising the sound of my voice. It's too breathy. Too needy. I can feel myself filling my boxers. This is how I react to him.

"I want a shower," He says, and gestures a hand out to me. He isn't asking. He's telling me. Fuck. I reach out for his hand, and he tugs me up. He hastily grabs the lube from the drawer and pulls me towards his room.

He doesn't pay any attention to me until we reach his bathroom. He turns the water before turning to me. I take a step back at his heated gaze, breath lodged in my throat.

"You look so good in that jumper," He says, low. My cock jumps. "My jumper."

His lips meet mine hard and my hands go straight to his hair. Our lips move against each other's desperately, and I start pulling off his clothes one by one. His length presses against mine and I moan into his mouth when he presses hard. He hasn't moved to take anything else off of me. He's left in his boxers, and he stops kissing me.

"I have to take it off," He says, almost to himself, and he tugs my jumper off leaving my hair in a mess. He grabs my head again, kissing the life out of me. He fingers at the edge of my boxers before sliding them down, briefly grazing at my cock. He was becoming braver the more we do this. I gasp, and reciprocate pulling his down too.

He guides us into the shower while still moving his lips against mine and the water cascades over our naked bodies.

"I do need to wash," He says against my mouth, but doesn't move away.

"Really? I'll wash you," I moan, but I can't stop kissing him. It's a struggle when he tastes this good. "Shower gel."

He moans, but complies passing me his shower gel. I briefly leave his mouth to squeeze some out before rejoining them. I rub my hands together, lathering up, before running them over Harry's chest. Fuck, this is hot. He moans into my mouth and I do, too. Feeling every dip, every muscle has me hard to a point I can't even explain. I run my hands down his back, briefly over his ass before grabbing it. He gasps and I put my tongue in his mouth. He grabs my hair, pressing against me.

"I need-," He says. "Please." Harry begging. If that wasn't the hottest thing. I moan and pass him the lube. He slicks his fingers up, and reaches behind me. Pressing a finger inside, I groan. He takes my lips, holding me close to him. Water soaks our bodies, heating our skin. He lifts my leg up, enabling him to start moving in and out.

When the second finger enters, I grip his arm. His tongue enters my mouth, water from the shower lubricating our mouths. My hair clings to my face, and it drips water down my back. His fingers graze my prostate and I grunt against his mouth. He moves to press me against the glass, and my back arches from the coldness. He continues his assault, fingers still buried deep inside me, working to open me.

He changes to three and I take a gulp of air at the sudden fullness and the need for him. I rest back, not caring about the cold, my skin heated from arousal. I grab his length at the passion, and he gasps at the intrusion he didn't expect. I need to have him.

"Please," I whine, not sure what I'm begging for. He continues to fuck me with his fingers, skimming my prostate every now and then. "Harry, please."

He suddenly lifts me up, fingers still inside me, and I cry out. I couldn't be anymore aroused, pressed against the wet glass, between Harry's wet body. He looks so good, and I could come. With him still moving his fingers, I think I might.

"Harry," I shout out, trying to stop myself. Shit. "Please, I'm going to-,"

I spray up myself, coming hot and hard around his fingers with a yell. He stops moving, pulling his fingers out. My ears ring, and I can just hear the shower still spraying water.

I come to when I'm suddenly filled with his large length, snapping my head back hard against the glass. He doesn't move. He bites at my chin, allowing me to adjust. I've never done this before. I whimper at the feeling of him pressed against my prostate. This will be too sensitive. Could I even come again?

"Okay?" He rasps, and my length starts to harden again. How? I stare at the God looking back at me.  "Lou?"

"Harry," I breathe somehow, head swimming. I wanted to say 'yes', but it didn't come out. He grips my thigh at his name, and he twitches inside of me. I whimper. I readjust my arms around his neck, and tighten my legs around his hips.

He starts moving, slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. God, this feels good. I didn't think it would, as I'm incredibly sensitive. I've never come more than once.

"Faster," I whimper, deciding I could handle more. His hips stutter, before complying. My head hits the glass again. I'm going to have a bruise, I swear. The pros of this is that this feels amazing. The con (if you could call it one) is that he is firmly against my prostate, not leaving it. My breaths constantly get punched from my chest in loud cries.

I don't feel part of this world, like I'm floating. I can feel every thrust. It's odd.

Harry's lips meet my neck, and he sucks at it. I moan impossibly louder.

He fucks into me a little harder, and my stomach coils inside of me. No way. Arousal pools from my stomach and I feel light headed. My legs tingle.

"Yes," I hiss. "Harder." I don't know who I am anymore. Harry whines. Fucking whines.

His hips snap into me over and over impossibly hard and I yell out, every thrust nearly sending me over the edge, tears rolling down my face. I don't even know if I can. He bites down on my neck, and that's when I know I can.

I tighten, shouting through clenched teeth until I can't and prolonged shout leaves my mouth, and I come again. Waves of my orgasm roll over me, and I claw at Harry's wet back.

"Lou," He cries before stilling inside of me, releasing hard. I cry out at the feeling of him gripping my hips and filling me. Upon stopping, I only hear the sound of my heart in my ears and the shower. We struggle to get our breaths back. He pulls out of me, and lets me stand alone and I lean back against the glass unable to fully support my self.

"Louis?" He asks, trying to pull me out of my stupor. I can't answer, I just look, lazily. I close my eyes. I need to sleep. I hear the water turn off and the slaps of Harry's wet feet on the floor. Suddenly, I'm engulfed in a large fluffy towel. Sighing at the feeling, Harry dries me a little. "Come on." He pulls at my hand, bringing me away from the glass. I stumble and he catches me. "Fuck."

You did this to me, Harry. He picks me up, pulling my limp arms round his neck, and legs around his waist.

No! Put me down! You can't do this. This is too close. Fuck!

Only a groan leaves my mouth, weakly pushing away in panic.

"It's okay, I've got you," He says, far too gently for my liking. I collapse against him knowing it's useless.

It's comfortable like this. Too comfortable. He smells far too nice, having just washed and his skin hot against mine.

He starts to walk, swaying me, and I fall asleep.