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Primetime (for our love)

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When it comes to their first time Harry quite literally goes and asks “can I make love to you?”

And it’s like… it’s just such a dumb, cheesy thing to say, like they’re in one of those bloody romance novels everyone claims to hate but everyone has secretly read at some point anyway. And normally Louis would be laughing his rather spectacular arse off, because honestly- “can I make love to you” indeed…

Thing is, if it had been absolutely anyone else in the world, Louis probably would have cut and run right there. Because come on, who says that? Nobody, that’s who.

Only Harry apparently does. He just did, in fact. And the way he asks “can I make love to you?” is just so fucking unabashedly earnest that it hits Louis straight away he’d used those words because he means them- Harry’s not going to fuck Louis their first time, he’s going to make love to him. With an emphasis on the love. As if all he wants in the world is to show Louis how much he means to him. And it makes Louis feel like…

It makes him feel like this is something precious.

Like just maybe, this could be something permanent.

So Louis doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t cut and run. Instead he reaches up to curl his arms around the back of Harry’s neck, and then in the quiet darkness of the hotel room he whispers “please” into Harry’s mouth before he pulls him down into their bed.

Louis lets Harry make love to him for the first time that night.

And maybe for the second and third time too.

-End


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