Nineteen
"I've been dreaming about doing this for months," Harry admitted between kisses as he worked his way up Louis' jaw with his mouth, one hand teasing the button on Louis' shorts while the other fisted the fabric of his striped t-shirt.
"You dream about me?" Louis asked hoarsely as he tilted his head back, his question nearly drowned out by the pelting rain and rumbling thunder.
"More than I'd like to admit," he said as he laid a kiss dangerously close to Louis's parted, waiting lips.
"Um," Louis gulped when Harry popped his button free before he yanked the zipper down and ran his thumb along the waistband of Louis' boxers, which suddenly felt unusually restrictive on his lower abdomen. "What happens in these dreams of yours?"
"Mmm, it would be quicker to tell you what doesn't happen," Harry mused coyly as he sat up and rested his palms on Louis' hips, tugging Louis to his knees and pulling him into his bare torso, "but it always starts off like this...."
aka a University AU in which Louis’ nineteenth birthday is sometime in early May and Harry prefers burritos to bananas.
Don't Go in the West Wing
Don't Go in the West Wing