((Soooooo like YEARS later I'm finally updating the last update from Tumblr I'm aware of. For anyone still reading this, I applaud you for sticking with it lol. This chapter use to be a "sample" of the chapter but it's now been updated to be the whole chapter. 

I believe this is the last chapter. My source published it in 2020 but I believe the original author finished it around 2018-2019. Enjoy!)

"Do you want me to?"

Bo nods down at the condom Harry's stiffly holding onto. He's coiled up so tight that it would be a bad idea to let her undress him. He's having a difficult enough time as it is just toying with the inevitable of her touching him, let alone below the waist.

Bo had watched in fondness from her spot lounging on the bed as Harry moved from candle to candle, lighting as many as he could before the flame on the match got too low. She'd laughed at his explanation for not striking a second match, claiming there was a fine line between romantic and sacrificial.

But now in this soft, flickering room, she smiles at him and he almost loses his nerve.

"No, it's alright, I've got it." Kneeing closer to her across the mattress, "just lay back," Harry encourages softly.

On second thought, that's probably the worst thing he could of suggested because now Bo's laid beneath him and he's acquired an audience to a process that makes his hands shake. Hair splays on his pillows and it's been so long since he's had something so pretty occupy his bed.

She'll linger on his sheets. The smell of her perfume and the fleeting heat of her body which escapes once the covers are peeled back, both temporary, both are not enough. He craves so much more. But the memory will be permanent.

Harry doesn't think he'll ever forget the way she's looking at him now, like he hung the moon and every star in the sky.

He swallows before going through the motions of unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zip. The full weight of her gaze lands on his stomach as the bottom of his t-shirt is taken between his teeth to hold it up and out of the way. Fingertips unwittingly tickle as Bo traces his hip and on towards his belly button. And he sort of hopes she misses the goosebumps it raises on his skin.

As Harry gently presses to widen her legs, the winsome charm she led with earlier seems to escape her. He's left feeling fully endeared by her absent fiddling of his belt loop.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

There's a smile but it lacks prowess and so Harry removes himself from looming over her and comes to lay beside her. Bo shifts into him.

"We've had sex before."

It's quiet because he doesn't want to disturb the delicacy they've slipped into. Facing each other, it's still a little difficult to comprehend that he's with her now. She's in his tiny basement flat where the hot water is temperamental and the floorboards creak in odd places along the hall.

"I know. But it feels new," she softly smiles, thumb lightly rubbing at the tattoo on his hip.

Her beauty has become more refined in the five years they've known each other, more of a classic look that has Harry pinned every time she holds his eye contact. Despite her wishes for a growth spurt, Bo stands at the same height against Harry's shoulder. But now there's a confidence in the way she holds herself, filled with achievements and future aspirations.

He can't really imagine what she's seeing. He's been greeted by this image of tattoos and damaged eye every morning for years whilst he brushes his teeth in the bathroom mirror. So perhaps this intimacy does feel new to her now.

He's pliantly patient as he waits for Bo to initiate further contact between them. They talk quietly, muffling laughter into the pillow as Harry recounts one of his mishaps in the kitchen. It's not long before she's bashfully rubbing her nose to his and Harry's sighing into the sweet kiss they share.

He welcomes the palm warming his side and it's when she gets a little more handsy that Harry encourages Bo to seat herself upon his lap. Sat with his back to the coolness of the wall, there's a heavy clash in temperature between the brickwork and the woman he holds close. And whether wilfully calculated or involuntary, Bo's hip movements are progressing the thoughts in Harry's one-track mind. The longing of experiencing another person so intimately is finally being quelled, soft mouths and testing fingertips reaffirming to the both of them.

But it's the tug to Bo's hair that sharply clears the heavenly ascent, lacking in any sort of lustful passion and is instead leaning more towards unintentional pain. She breaks the kiss, fingers wrapping Harry's wrist.

"AaaaAA," Bo's pitch escalates as he attempts to remove the hand riddled with silver rings from her hair.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Harry fusses.

She's instructed to hold still, huffing out a sigh, whilst Harry sorts the situation out with a commentary of swears. Looking like she's sucking on a lemon, Bo obediently follows Harry's lead as he adjusts so he's not working in his own shadow. Once she's free, her hair is tangled enough to make drawing her fingers through it bit of a pain.

Harry twists the rings off his fingers, throwing them in irritation to the bedside. Another colourful curse falls from his mouth as he shuffles them both down the bed before flopping backwards onto the mattress. Bo watches as he rubs his eyes with tightly clenched fists.

"I'm sorry," Harry sighs through his hands that are currently covering his face.

"Don't be silly."

"I cocked that up."

Still currently residing in Harry's lap, she's not quite sure if she should remove herself given that the mood has taken bit of a nosedive. Bo's answer is given moments later as Harry's knees come up behind her and palms splay out on her thighs.

"Don't. Feels good."

"You ok?"

"I'm fine, are you alright?" he tightly replies.

"You just seem a little tense," she warily suggests.

"It hasn't exactly gone as smoothly as I'd hoped."

He doesn't quite meet her eyes, the action weighing heavy on her chest.

"You been thinking about this a lot then?" Bo teases, eyebrows suggestively raising as she tries to lighten the tone.

"'Bout what?" he fires back, palms softly squeezing where they've remained.

Harry loves the flirting, and is more than thrilled to have it reciprocated, to have her play with him in this back and forth. Suggestive tones that are made even more fun because he knows there's a depth to it.

But he sort of also wants to hear her explain their situation. Explicitly.

"What do you think?"

"Couldn't say," he goads.

"About having me under you," Bo simply replies, not missing a beat.

Prayers answers.

"Maybe, but it's mostly been about the cuddling and kisses on the cheek."

"Liar," she accuses, lightly pinching at his side.

"Ok, ok!" he jostles her as Bo's fingers find a particularly ticklish spot under his arm. "I might have thought once or twice about getting you in that window seat."

"You said you were kidding about that," she implores, batting him across the arm.

"A guy can dream."

"Well, you'll be dreaming for an eternity."

"Shame, any thoughts about the same activity in the shower?"

Bo laughs, rearranging herself out of Harry's lap.

"Maybe we should concentrate on the current situation," she motions, "lay back."

Harry's on his back and he feels like a fucking lemon because his hands don't know how to play it cool and his heart is hammering like it's his first time. He can't be sure what Bo is doing until she appears with her hair tied back from her face. She's assumed the odd position of straddling his knees. And Harry watches her crawl up his body before a kiss between them only has four inches to make contact.

"Hey," Bo hushes with a smile. "How ya doing?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?" Bo lightly tests, her fingernails running across his stomach.

Harry lays with his brain between his legs and his bottom lip between his teeth. He enjoys the lingering tingle as nails drag just that little bit too deep; done it to himself when the occasion arises and he's in the mood to get off. But this is different because for the first time in a while it's not Harry's own hand palming over the seam of his jeans. And it's the partially choked sound he makes that sets her smile.

Her touch is gentle, easing his jeans down until another tattoo is uncovered. She gives it some consideration, thumbing over the patch of inked skin.

"Is this a tiger?" she asks, grinning up at Harry.

"Thiger."

Bo snorts before clamping her hand to his thigh to lean in for a kiss, which ends up being a clumsy kiss to his chin when Harry moves his head at the last second. They laugh again.

"Please tell me you didn't just get that tattoo so you could make that joke," she scorns him whilst edging his underwear down.

"It did make you laugh thou-"

The sentence is choked off as Bo takes him into her mouth. All thoughts evaporate from his mind, only ones of pleasure and utter desperation remain as she licks around the tip.

"You're gunna have to bear with me, it's a steep learning curve."

And Harry thinks she almost looks smug as her index traces the curve of him from base to head. Even more so as his cock is laden with chaste kisses, an innocent gesture for such an erotic setting. And apparently mirroring his dilemma between either wanting to take Bo sweetly or just nail her into the mattress.

He only realises how pent up he is when his fists loosen in the sheets once she's finished with her little display. He's hardened fully and he's having trouble with digesting the image of her laid between his legs.

Even with a mouth full of cock she's trying hard not to smile.

"You're gunna kill me," he pants, eyes rolling back.

She huffs a laugh around him which proves to visibly tighten the muscles in his thighs. And it's only now that Harry thinks, she tied her hair back to suck me off. He may have transcended to a higher plain of existence as her hand begins to work him over - deliberate with her strokes and squeezing just slightly to keep him coiled up.

Harry's own hands have returned to the sheets, balling them in fists as he endures what's panning out to be the most long-awaited oral of his life. He's a little embarrassed to say that he can already feel the muscles in his stomach tightening. It's a hot clench that only burns warmer by the second. Harry's approach is a little haphazard, but the hand he brushes to Bo's cheek hurriedly catches her shoulder to encourage her away.

"I-I think I'll be alright now."

Or maybe not, Harry swallows as Bo passes the back of her hand over the corner of her mouth.

"Spoilsport," she teases.

***

"I always loved your thighs," Harry comments, warming his palms to the inside of Bo's legs.

He's going to satisfy that heavy ache she feels low in her belly. It only intensifies as Harry looks up at her through his eyelashes. He's going to bewitch her senses and leave her wanting him again and again. It's been so long, Bo would forgo sleep and forfeit any sort of productiveness the next day just roll in the serenity of candlelight and a lover's warmth.

She's still sporting her bee-saving t shirt as she watches the muscles in his chest and shoulders transform with his movement. An ungainly squeak is produced on account of Harry sharply dragging her a little further down the mattress. Something which he finds highly amusing judging by the crinkle to his nose.

"Brute."

Harry laughs.

He murmurs a quick apology, brushing his fingers to her cheek before retrieving a condom. The process is smoother as his hands refuse to quake and now Bo's onlooking makes his blood rush in electric excitement. He's practically thrumming with it as his touch leisurely slips between the apex of her thighs. She clamps his hand there with the forgotten feeling of someone else's kind fingers. Harry's treated to a series of spectacular little sounds, whisperings and then small startles that are muffled into Bo's arm as she hides her face. He's being brazen with it, not just the fact that his fingers play but knowing that this is what she wants, she wants him.

There's a look of wild revelation as his fingers dip into wet warmth. The couple hold eye contact, Harry's movements gentle and without haste in the knowledge of acts to follow. There's an actual throbbing between Bo's thighs, making them shake in the effort to keep them from falling completely open. It's barely a whisper, but Harry hears it, the "please" that tells him she's barely keeping it together.

She's ethereal laying below him, all soft features and devout gaze as he lines up and finally pushes in. It's almost jarring the way she feels around him again, giving him that pliant smile, the one he recognises, the one that means she's not completely with him. That is until he starts to move and it's like she's a drowning woman breaching the surface. Her back arches from the bed, arms around his neck as she pants into his, clinging to him like he's her saviour.

"Harry.'

His name is spoken in a raging half whisper.

"I know," he replies because he can feel it too.

Rapture. She'll be his undoing and his sexual reawakening. Harry welcomes that warm pull in his belly as he angles his hips to draw new, breathy sounds from his lover's lips.

Bo's an honest delight beneath him. The way he can feel her toes curling against his calf, her fingers gripping his nape to encourage him further on top. As if he could get any closer, they're already sharing breath and fumbling kisses.

Harry's pretty sure a bottom corner of the fitted sheet has sprung loose with the way they're contorting to keep damp skin close. His skimming hands have pushed her t shirt up, deft fingers hooking the right cup from her bra down so he can kiss at her breast.

She's more fussy than he remembers, especially when he leans away and takes a heady breather. Her huffing is a tad undue but Harry thrives in it, noting her disgruntled expression as he slips from her entirely. There's a flash of an unpleasant second when Harry's mind tells him he's going to be booted in the face.

But Bo's brought her feet up to lightly drum against his chest and Harry can't help but laugh at the playfulness, grabbing at her ankles before she has a chance patter against him again.

"Come on," she almost whines.

His hands move of their own accord, sliding down her calfs to press his thumbs into the back of her knees.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you," Harry replies, leaning into her whilst spreading and gently bearing down on the back of her thighs.

There's pink blooming on her cheeks, and Harry can't be sure if it's the temperature in their duvet fort, or the fact that Bo's ankles are now resting on his shoulders.

"You promised me a whole evening."

Harry thinks her chide lacks the lustre needed to fully penalise him, especially when he can feel her wriggling to meet his hips.

"And I wouldn't want to go back on my promise."

He lightly kisses at her ear, unworried about hiding his smile.

"Because that would make you a shitty person."

He's not expecting the pinch to his hip, so the growl he produces in response is a surprise to both of them.

"I don't remember you being so boisterous."

"Maybe it's because you're practically bending me in half."

Harry lets Bo unfurl, her legs slipping down to rest beside his hips once more.

"You'll have to forewarn me next time so I can stretch beforehand."

"Next time?" Harry curiously enquires.

"I'm not just having you once," Bo breathily promises in his ear, the tone making it seem like that fact was obvious.

Harry plays along with their distracted conversation, leaning over her with an elbow propped and his thigh between hers.

"Tonight?"

He's not ready for the shove to his shoulder or the dominating role reversal, so when Bo's sat astride him Harry's sure she feels him twitch. She doesn't play at coy, but there's definitely something more bashful in her movements as she delights in the feel of him again.

"Forever."

That promise sets his heart soaring.

She reaches behind for him, shuffling back to seat herself fully down with a flutter of eyelashes and somewhat of a startled whimper. And Harry can't help but grunt at this all-consuming feeling; this time with the added pressure of hands splayed on his chest as he's halfheartedly held down.

"Was that a bit cheesy?" Bo asks once she's chased her breath. "It sounded romantic in my head."

"A bit, but I think it worked in the moment."

"Good, because I meant it."

He doesn't want it to sound insincere whilst she's riding him, so Harry bottles up the 'I love you', and saves it for when he can confess with a clearer mind. Instead, he grabs at her hips, eyes devouring the way her body moves against his and he's delighted with the repeat image of her bouncing, slack jawed. And because he's a tease, Harry delights further in the sounds she creates when his hips come up to meet hers.

She wants him every way she can, but that wish may have to wait.

"Lean forward," he pleads.

Bo's forehead comes to rest on Harry's as his feet plant to the mattress and his knees come up behind her. With the strength of his tattooed hips, he meets hers at a toe-curling rate. Bo succumbs, allowing Harry to take the lead and guide them both, her face finding the crook of his neck and his arms wrapping around her back. He cradles her into completion, hearts hammering as Harry chases the rapture that Bo blissfully makes peace with. It's only with the last few stuttering thrusts that Bo pushes up, taking his face between her hands to kiss away the curses that slip free from his smile.

***

"I like them," Bo admires, fingers running over twin inked dates on his shoulders.

She shifts a little to sit back on his thighs, taking his forearm with her as she intently inspects all the splashes of black ink she's unfamiliar with. It's all Harry can do to give Bo a soppy smile whilst she carries on, giving each design her attention. They're partially dressed again, Harry only decent enough to have taken delivery of their pizza before returning to the bedroom.

"Who's this?"

Harry's arm is raised as Bo taps a finger to the tattoo in question. It's a delicate gesture that challenges her comical disapproval.

"My mermaid."

"She's cute," Bo says, finger following the swish of dark hair. "Why'd you get her?"

"Dunno, I've always liked swimming."

He's met with a surprised laugh.

"So, of course, logically you got a mermaid permanently tattooed on your body," she chides, shaking her head.

There's a small "B" inked just below the inside crease of his elbow. She tilts her head, smoothing over the skin with her thumb.

"That one's yours," he says simply, like it couldn't be anything else.

"Mine?" she asks, eyebrows shooting up.

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Yep, "B" for Bo," Harry tells her quietly. "Beautiful."

She licks her thumb, rubbing at the letter.

"You really got it tattooed?"

"Yeah," he laughs.

"That's permanent."

"I'm aware," Harry smirks, biting at her neck. "Just like my mermaid."

"Yeah, just like her," Bo thoughtfully rephrases.

It's a few moments before she replies, still rubbing at the small letter.

"Why'd you get it?"

"You're important to me, you've helped me through so much, it just felt right."

She doesn't say anything in return, not sure that she actually can. Pouting in contemplation, Bo shifts a little in Harry's lap.

"Maybe I should get your name tattooed on me."

"Oh, really?" Harry smirks. "Where? Hopefully somewhere only I get to see?"

"Hmmm, I was thinking more of a chest piece," she leans away, gesturing to a band of skin above her breasts.

Harry appears a little horrified for a moment but his composure cracks before laughing and grabbing for her hands.

"I'm not sure that's your best idea."

She slumps back to be cradled into Harry's side.

"Or maybe I'll just get a 'H' here," she hushes, voice more sincere as fingers point to the exact spot on her arm where he has her inked. "So we can match."

Bo's treated to a kiss to the tip of her nose. She sighs before further squirming away to continue the inspection of body art.

"Roll over then."

She makes herself comfortable, sitting astride his lower back as delicate fingers trace more tattoos curving around his side.

"Oh God, that one's awful."

Harry huffs a laugh into the pillow in response to her brash opinion and feathery touch.

***

Harry wakes to the heart wrenching feeling of an empty bed. He sits up rather abruptly, hands skimming bed-warm sheets as the duvet slips to pool at his waist. He swallows twice, mind reeling to kickstart foggy memories from hours before.

The bedroom door has been left ajar, just enough for a thin strip of light to hollow out the darkened room. Soft footsteps follow and Harry's heart climbs back down his throat for it to thud against his ribcage.

His body flops back against the pillows before the door is nudged just enough for Bo to slip back through. She doesn't think anything of Harry now sprawled out on his back, but she knows he's awake because of the subtle inclination when she draws back the confusion of sheets.

"Your hot tap is broken," Bo hushes whilst climbing back into bed on the floor.

She receives a rough hum, Harry's arm draping her waist.

"Did you hear me?"

Instead of moving himself closer, he opts for coercing Bo until the length of her body is flush to his, like he's seeking the cool side of the pillow.

"Broken," he grunts.

"And you don't have a bath mat, my feet got cold. I can go out and get you one tomorrow. Or today?" she adds, trying to lean over Harry to confirm the time on one of their phones.

He mumbles something incoherent into her shoulder, lips forming words like kisses upon her skin. With her on her back and Harry now on his side, he's almost perfected the art of blurring the lines between them and creating one warm entity under the covers.

"Repeat that."

She gently catches under his chin with the tips of her fingers, prising him from the nook in her neck.

"Don't need one."

The raspy words catch in his throat.

"Everyone needs a bathmat. Where will you dry your feet? You'll just track wet footprints through your room."

"I'll think about it."

No, he won't.

"Of course you won't, I'll just go and get you one," she pauses. "It'll be a fluffy orange monstrosity because you're being difficult about it. Probably a matching toilet cover as well - if they still even sell those?"

The arm banding her middle squeezes tighter which Bo thinks is Harry's silent way of getting her to hush..

"I love you."

Oh.

Bo stills in his arms.

It's something she'd insinuated hours before. That she would still be his in the morning, and every other morning of her promised 'forever'. But for him to utter the words into their lengthy, soft post-sex haze - Bo was just about ready to settle into the cradle of sleep. But now she's fully awake.

He's still pressed against the length of her, his hair brushing her cheek as the urgency to gauge her reaction grows.

"I'm in love with you - still."

Still. Like he'd never stopped. And that's a little terrifying to know, especially in the knowledge of their separation and the years between then and their reunion.

"I'm still in love with you," he rephrases. "Got there in the end."

His lips catch a soft smile which diminishes as his words rest into silence. Harry feels Bo draw in a grounding breath as though she's trying to compose herself. Unsure as to whether this conversation should be illuminated, Harry decides against turning on the lamp. Partly because he frightened to disturb her but mostly because he can't bear the thought of seeing Bo's face if it's rejection that awaits him.

"If you're not ready then I - well, I understand -"

"I'd like to take you out," Bo interrupts.

"What?"

"Not fatally," she hurriedly explains, "like on a date?"

"Oh - ok."

"Yeah? We could go out to dinner or have cake at a cafe in one of the parks? Or there's that cinema experience that looks quite fun."

*** 4 Months Later ***

Harry can hear it in her voice, that she's not prepared for his confession of undying love just yet and she certainly isn't ready to say it back. But this is the start that they both deserve, a calm, normal beginning to their new relationship. It's a chance to get to know each other again and to see where it progresses. And Harry's happy with that as they lay and bounce date ideas between them, all the while Bo's fingers have found his own.

"Why must everything be so high up?" Bo grumbles.

Her complaint is voiced to the glasses on the top shelf in Harry's kitchen cupboard. Despite her irritation, he's pleased to see her emerge minutes later with two drinks in hand and his socks pulled up nearly to her knees over leggings.

"I see you were successful," he grins as Bo sorts out coasters.

"Well, I did nearly pull everything off the worktop in my struggle, but it's fine."

Her words are accompanied with a sugar-sweet smile that can only mean trouble for Harry. He hopes he's forgiven with the choice of Tuesday night Bake-Off on the telly. And it's as Bo's laughing at some awful bread pun that the question just feels right.

"Bo, do you wanna move in?"

She smiles, pressing into his side and rearranging his arm so it curls around her back.

"No," he huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "I mean move into the flat - with me."

"Really?"

Bake-Off forgotten, Bo swivels to face him. There's joy dancing in her eyes as the bun atop her head bobs with her excited wriggle to move closer. The TV is set on mute and Harry becomes confused at the sharpness in her eyes.

"I want the left side of the bed, permanently," she negotiates.

"It's yours. Even when you're not here."

"And you'll leave space in the bathroom for my things?"

"I mean, there's quite a lot of your stuff in there already - but of course."

Bo kisses his cheek.

"I just got my first pay from work," Bo happily states. "I'm gunna buy some proper glasses, so we don't have to drink wine out of mugs."

"What's the point?" Harry laughs. "The fact that you stick a straw in everything sort of lowers the tone of a proper wine glass anyway.'

The remark earns him a sore shoulder.

"And we can always get you a step for the kitchen."

She rounds on him so fast he nearly spills the drink he's just picked up from the coffee table.

"We will not be doing that. You'll help me move everything down so I can reach it myself."

"No problem."

"I'm gunna phone my mum," she rambles, untangling from Harry and tripping over a charging cable.

"Should I set up a direct debit? Or do you just want me to transfer my half to you each month? What would be easier?"

"Don't worry," he laughs. "We can sort it out later."

"I love you!" she calls from where she's peeking around the doorframe.

It's such a casual gesture but Harry's settling into the knowledge that the love he's bursting with is reciprocated by the woman he adores.

"I love you, too," he smiles.