larry smut

breathe me in and mark me up - 1/3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066249

here is part one of the "smoke and boas"  series :)

~✰~

Louis does initially try to pay attention to the performance. Or, more accurately, pay attention to the song , not the man performing. Not the way the black leather clings tightly to the lines of his thighs, the swell of his ass. Not the way the jacket is open wide now, boa flung aside, revealing the expanse of the singer's chest, butterfly proudly on tattoo. However, focusing on literally anything else is proving to be a very hard task. Innuendo fully intended. Louis adjusts his trousers subtly.

Eventually, Louis simply gives up. Allows his eyes to scan across every inch of bare skin, his collarbones turning rosy with exertion, a glistening sheen of sweat covering his torso now as he throws his head back and bounces around the stage. Louis' gaze fixates on Harry's bared throat, devastatingly clear of marks.

("Lou," Harry had panted several days before as Louis sucked at the spot below his ear, "Grammys."

Louis pulled back slightly to look at him. Harry's gaze was on the ceiling, pupils blown wide and rosy lips parted as he gasped. Louis smirked and dipped down to press another kiss to the spot, murmuring against the skin of his throat, "What about them?"

Harry swallowed hard, already worked up and clearly struggling to string his words together as he stammered out, "Outfit. No, um, no shirt. Can't- can't have marks."

"Well that's no fun," Louis whispered, grinning as he felt Harry shiver beneath him, rising up to look down at Harry. Louis lowered his mouth to Harry's, coaxing the younger man into a slow, filthy kiss before shifting away. "Guess I'll just have to do it where no one will see."

Harry let out a whine at the loss of contact as Louis moved down his body, getting his mouth level with Harry's thighs. Now those would be covered.)

Louis snaps himself out of the memory, refocusing on the man giving the performance that had kept Louis from marking him for far to long. Harry's always been better at this than Louis. The acting, the stage presence. He loves the attention, the adoration. And Louis loves to adore him. Louis teeth dig into his bottom lip sharply, his eyes glued to Harry as he sings the final note. Harry's chest is rising and falling with every breath, shining with a thin layer of sweat and tinged pink higher up.

Louis makes sure Harry sees him, sees his quick grin and wink before turning and retreating backstage. The next performer, Billie Eilish, is talented and under normal circumstances Louis would be happy to stay and watch. But Louis has other things on his mind and plans to be set in place.

He smirks as he heads towards Harry's trailer. He hasn't waited days for nothing. Besides, a good fuck has always been a great way to ease Harry's nerves.

Louis steps up into the trailer and his gaze lands immediately on the clothing rack with Harry's outfit change and emergency backup for the evening. Two more boas, lavender and black, catch his attention. A thought flits through his head and he moves to grab them, then shakes his head. No time for that now, it'll have to wait.

Louis pulls a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, flicking open the lighter and lighting up before raising the cig to his lips and drawing in a deep lungful of smoke. He admires the lighter for a moment, flicking it on and off. It's his favorite, a simple silver zippo Harry got him a few years ago. Harry had it engraved, a cursive HET written on the side. Once changing his name, Harry found his new initials absolutely hilarious.

Louis takes another drag of his cigarette and slips the lighter back into his trouser pocket. He drops into a chair and takes out his phone, opening twitter. Fans, of course, are losing their shit. Louis scrolls through the timeline, full of images from Harry's performance. Louis' half-hard state had waned on the walk to the trailer, but the pictures and clips are a very sudden reminder of his situation, his cock jumping to life.