Make Me Beg ➸ Larry Stylinson

fifty six

Louis' POV:

I'm lounging on our bed, watching a cheesy telenovela that Liam and Zayn suggested I watch when I hear the front door open. Harry calls up the stairs to say hi, and I grin upon his arrival. I hear him shuffling around downstairs and scoot off the bed to see what's going on.

"Harry, how was work?" I call, walking out of the bedroom and heading down the stairs.

He's in the living room and his voice travels across the house. "Good, thanks! How was your day at the house?" He asks as he walks towards the bottom of the stairs where I'm standing.

I shrug, just happy to see him again. "It was fine, nothing too exciting, really. Watched a few movies and a new show Zayn and Liam recommended to me. They're super into it right now and tell me how they're binge-watching it all the time."

I'm not sure if Harry even heard what I just told him, because he seems to be in some sort of happy la-la-land daze as he stares back at me. "Harry?" He just keeps grinning but brings his attention back to the room.

"I have a surprise for you," His smile broadens, his dimples cuter than ever. 

I look around the room. "What kind of surprise?"

"A good one," He murmurs before pressing his lips against mine. It's nothing hot or needy, but plenty intimate and sweet. I close my eyes and kiss him back, something that's become second nature ages ago. Harry picks me up by my thighs and I wrap my legs around his torso as he carries me upstairs, not even breaking the kiss.

"Harryyy, what is it?" I mumble against his lips as he puts me down at the top of the stairs.

"You'll see," He pulls back from the kiss with the same silly smile on his face and nearly drags me to his sex dungeon-y room. My heart races just a little faster when he picks the door closed with his heel and pushes me down on the bed, my back hitting the soft mattress.

"I don't want to hurt you because of your broken wrist and concussion, so tell me if your wrist or head starts to hurt or if you feel any pain, okay, Lou? Promise me that much," He says, his fingers dancing lightly down my right thigh and hooking themselves on my waistband.

I nod, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, but he gets the idea. He smirks in response and pushes his lips up against mine once more, his tongue teasing my mouth just enough as he skillfully pulls down my pants and takes off my shirt, leaving me in just some boxers. 

It's not until we break our kiss and I start to strip him of his shirt when I freeze. I quite possibly go as still as a statue. I quickly throw his shirt on the floor, my eyes locked onto his chest.

"Harry..." My breath hitches and my fingers from my good hand run down his chest and over the fresh black ink and crisp, sharp lines.

"It's a butterfly. I got it for you, Lou," He whispers, giving me a kiss and then a bone-crushing hug on the bed, his lips grazing my ear as he speaks.

"It's beautiful, Haz. But why for me?" No one's ever gotten a tattoo for me before, so this is very new to me.  The butterfly tattoo really is breathtaking and the tattoo artist did a wonderful job on it. His chest is still a little red and looks sensitive so it must be brand new and not a tattoo he got while I was staying with Zayn and Liam. It's absolutely stunning.

"Maybe it's cheesy, but I got it because you give me so many butterflies, Lou. It doesn't even matter what you're doing. For fucks sake, you could be washing the dishes or making a sandwich. The thought of you alone makes me so happy and it feels unreal that you're dating me. I mean, what'd I do to get so lucky?"

I blush profusely and kiss him on the forehead as he keeps his arms wrapped around me in a hug. "I ask myself the same question, you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. But didn't it really hurt? The tattoo, I mean, because it's right in the middle of your chest."