larry smut

spanking and lingerie

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1749935/chapters/3739358#workskin

so here's part three of 'the sex shop fic' . also I just gave y'all 12 new chapters so besties you better like it, enjoy!

~✰~

"Oh God, that's it," Louis moans, his eyes fluttering shut. "So good."

Harry swats at his arm with a greasy hand. "Sometimes I think you like the post-coital pizza more than the... coitus."

"It's your fault, y'know," Louis points out, mouthful of pizza. "Always going on about how you want me to gain weight."

Harry abandons the pizza completely and starts munching on Louis' barely-there tummy instead. "I love this," he says for the millionth time.

Louis rolls his eyes and tries not to giggle. "Not really. You just wanna pretend you knocked me up."

He can feel him smile, before he starts to sing, "You're just a small bump unborn—"

"Oh no, that's horribly depressing, don't sing that to our unborn child."

Harry looks up with a pout. "You sing something then."

Louis clears his throat. "You're really ruining what I have going on with this pizza. Awful wingman."

"Come on babe, sing for me." He's doing the smile and the eyelashes thing. Louis hates him. "I know you're good."

Louis regrets ever having shown Harry those videos of himself singing. He's... kind of good, but his boyfriend does it for a living; it's a bit embarrassing to sing in front of him. He's not the one with the humiliation kink. "No way."

"Please?" Harry says into his tummy, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs.

Fuck it. It's going on a week since the second roll of the dice, and Louis's still riding the high, falling over himself at any chance to shower Harry with affection. Harry's lapping it up, totally abusing it to get Louis to do stuff like wash the dishes or sing the first thing that comes to mind. "If you gave me a chance I would take it / it's a shot in the dark but I'll make it / Know with all of your heart, you can't shame me / When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be."

Harry buries his nose in Louis's belly button. And then they both sing, "N-n-n-no, no, no, no place I'd rather be!"

Louis giggles and tries to pull Harry up, but Harry only goes as far as Louis's raised knee. God, he's almost hard to look at. Harry's so pleased he's radiant, and that makes Louis happier than any pizza could, because it feels like he's done a good job. They need to be sickeningly cute right now. Louis needs Harry after they play, needs to shower him with love and attention and softness, and Harry needs to soak it all up and give back. "I love you so much. We should start a duo act."

"Please," Louis says with a snort. "What will they call us? Houis? Larry?"

"The Tomlinsons, duh."

Jesus Chris. "H."

"Just saying." He smiles, unrepentant.

And Louis knows they're—this is pretty much a done deal, six kids and a dog, but he still feels butterflies when Harry says stuff like that so casually. "You couldn't take my name."

Harry frowns like Louis's just offended him. "Why? Because I'm a man? I'll have you know a lot of women these days don't—"

"No, because you're... Harry Styles. It's on your CDs and everything."