larry smut

i can be the treble, baby you can be my bass

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047135

this is part one to "hey, you see me down on the floor series"

~✰~

"Panties" is one of those words that Harry hates indiscriminately for no real reason; it's nearly as cringe-inducing as "moist" and "puffy." So when he spies a sign in front of the lingerie boutique in the mall (he's shopping for new, manly bedding for his move to uni the next day -- his current Star Wars duvet isn't going to cut it anymore) that says in some seductive, cursive font that the store is having a "50% off ALL panties!" sale, Harry pauses.

Panties. Harry should be revolted.

He goes inside.

The lighting is muted and the walls are a dark red, giving the boutique a sultry, sexy vibe that Harry's not sure he blends in with well. He's not very sexy, he thinks, looking down at his pigeon-toes and knobby knees. But there's a part of him, a part locked deep inside himself – along with that part of him that thinks about the way his friend Ben's stubble would feel against his neck while he wanks at night – that thinks lingerie would be quite sexy; that wearing lingerie would be quite sexy.

He's never tried it, but here, at a great sale, with some spending money from his job at the bakery burning a hole in his pocket, he thinks it's time to splurge.

He starts to head over to a table and is immediately intercepted by a blonde saleswoman with spidery eyelashes and a blindingly white smile.

"Shopping for a special lady, love?" she questions.

Harry mulls over his response. The world's becoming more open, yes, but he's not sure he's prepared to unload his kinks onto a stranger. Boundaries and all that.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Trying to spice things up a bit, y'know? Not sure what size she is, though? Kinda my size actually..." he trails off, eyeing the table in front of him. It's piled high with lacey underthings in all kinds of patterns, and he feels a bit dizzy at the sight of it.

The saleswoman grins at Harry and clutches his arm to drag him over to another table.

"I think this would be what you're looking for, dear. Any specific style you're looking for?" she asks.

"Um, no," Harry answers. "I think I'll just look around and grab some random stuff. Thank you, though."

She walks away, reminding him she's there if he needs help, but Harry just nods distractedly and picks up random pairs of knickers to inspect. He thinks it'd be wiser to start small and just buy a single pair, but if he likes it he doesn't think he'll have a chance like this again soon.

Harry leaves the mall with eight pairs and a skip in his step.

***

Moving into his dorm is more stressful than Harry envisioned. There are crowds of crying freshman hugging their parents blocking the entrance and he already caught a boy and a girl making out in front of the elevator entrance. Stairs it is.

He lugs his duffel bags up three flights of stairs and searches for room 301, which he'll apparently be sharing with Louis Tomlinson. He and Louis hadn't had much time to talk before the move; all he really knows is that he likes footie and he's bringing the TV for the room.

He spots the open door to his room at the very end of the hall and drags himself in, throwing his bags onto the bed and panting loudly, shaking out his aching arms. At the sound of a raspy laugh behind him, he spins around, forgetting entirely that Louis said he'd be there early on move-in day.