larry smut

they shake, you conquer (and i'm left to their devices)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458301

~✰~

the evolution of Harry's jeans was something Louis felt deserved special recognition. the fans claimed that the boys themselves had undergone a lucky bout of puberty, and while that may have been very true (Louis still couldn't remember the moment when Harry went from curly, cherubic angel to sharp, defined sex God), Harry's jeans had evolved right alongside them. they had gone from baggy and almost revolting to skin tight and devastating. seriously, Harry's skinnies left nothing to the imagination, what with the way they hugged Harry's thighs and stretched over the bulge of his dick. Louis loved it.

But not at the moment, there in their bed where pulling off Harry's jeans was like peeling off his very skin. that is to say difficult and very painful, but mostly just for Louis.

"goddamn it, H," Louis huffed after five solid minutes of pulling at the material sticking to the back of Harry's knees, "paint them on, why don't you?"

Harry had the audacity to laugh, that no helping loaf. he rested on the bed, head cradled by a comfy looking nest of pillows and the biggest, shit eating grin known to mankind plastered on his flushed, happy face.

"I don't know, Lou." he sighed, voice thick and teasing (which was not fair because Louis was already naked and Harry wasn't), "it's nice seeing you get all hot and sweaty. it'd be nicer if I was naked, though."

and Louis couldn't have that, could he? he couldn't just let Harry say something like that, something so teasing and unhelpful, while he made himself breathless trying valiantly to get Harry's damn jeans off.

of course, when Louis got his fingers around the nubs of Harry's nipple and managed to give them a good, tight, presumably painful squeeze, Harry tilted his head back and moaned (and the sound of that was just too pretty for Louis to think that his plan had backfired). Louis always managed to forget just how sensitive Harry was.

"you're being bloody useless, Harry, you don't get to say anything." Louis said, his other hand falling away from Harry's jeans to fix at his sweaty fringe (it was summer, he could totally blame the sweating on the August heat instead of admitting that he was a little out of shape). Harry whined a little and lifted his hips, chasing after Louis' touch helplessly. the action had Louis' heart fluttering, always moved by how much Harry craved him, but it also had him smirking.

he may occasionally forget that Harry liked to hurt a little (or maybe he just forgot that hurting Harry, the absolute love of his life, was even an option), but he would always remember what got Harry hot and bothered like nothing else could.

"no, baby, i don't think so."

Harry whined again, a little louder, a little more needier, but he let his bottom fall back to the bed with a whimper and looked at Louis with hazy, pleading eyes. Louis watched, entranced as Harry's neck and chest flushed a deep red, as his hardening cock started to leak precome.

(fuck, Harry's little kinks would be the death of Louis one day. not today, no, he had some really great sex to partake in, but one day.)

after a few moments of just admiring Harry squirming underneath his gaze, Louis attention was captivated again by Harry's thighs. the room was dark, save for the sun beams poking through their closed shades, but Harry's skin glowed. every inch of him was lit, maybe by Louis' love, maybe by Harry's pure beauty, probably because of both (and because the universe loved to acknowledge one of its favorite creations), and the strong muscles underneath the glowing skin of Harry's thighs kept twitching. it was Harry's body fighting against the need for Louis' touch, and Louis really wanted to, wanted to touch all of him, feel the way he shined against his skin and to feel his muscles flex beneath him, but he wouldn't.