larry smut

in bloom

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004222

hey besties my apologies for being a little MIA, i've had a really busy week so i only have a few this time around but I will try and find more, also if you have any you'd want me to put here do let me know, enjoy!

~✰~

"You're not Liam," is not exactly the best way Louis' ever started a conversation with a cute boy. The loud bark of laughter that comes out of said boy's mouth before he covers it is definitely one of the best reactions he's had though.

"No," the boy agrees with a faint smile still curving his lips, "I'm Harry."

"Harry," Louis repeats, the name ringing bells all around his head. Harry, the childhood friend Liam mentions sometimes. Harry, the photographer who was offered a scholarship in New York and decided to stay in Manchester to be close to his family. Harry, the romantic who was once dumped on Valentine's Day but still thinks it's one of the best holidays of the year. Harry who works weddings for free if he likes the couple, who carries a leather journal that no one gets to read, who tried out for X Factor but didn't make it, who wears ugly shirts and too many rings, who has a disorganised mish-mash of tattoos he doesn't regret, who makes terrible jokes no one but him finds funny. Harry who Liam failed to say is the most gorgeous person Louis has ever in his entire life seen, with his green eyes and pink lips and dark curls and broad shoulders and long legs and wow, Louis really needs to stop checking this boy out so obviously.

"Yep," Harry agrees, popping the 'p' with more flourish than it really deserves. "And you're Louis," he says proudly. His smile turns a little mischievous, a little lopsided, a little more into a smirk. Louis' tummy feels pleasantly aflutter.

"That I am," he confirms. His voice comes out slightly higher than he expects. He coughs into his hand to clear his throat. "So, Harry," he says, consciously controlling his tone. Harry purses his lips as if that will hide the grin that makes his dimples appear. Louis' cheeks feel as if somebody's just lit a fire under them. The corners of his lips tug upwards in a smile entirely without his say-so. "Care to tell me what you've done with Liam?"

"Banished him. It's a coup d'état," Harry replies readily. "I'm taking over The Flower Kingdom." His jaw works visibly when he bites the inside of his cheek. He looks inordinately proud of his joke. Louis has to look away and bury his grin in his shoulder, more endeared than he'd like to admit.

"Good," he says. "Shoddy ruler, that boy. Terrible to his underlings, makes them come in early on Sunday mornings in appalling weather, it's proper inhumane."

Harry giggles. "Tragic," he says in the same flat monotone that seems to be his normal voice. It's completely at odds with the warm friendliness he exudes and the smile that seems to be his perpetual feature. Louis barely suppresses the urge to reach out and do something overly familiar, like trace the slope of Harry's cheekbone with a thumb or poke a finger in the crater of his dimple or feel the plush softness of his lips against his own. He shakes his head at himself and puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket before they can do something his brain hasn't approved.

"How worried should I be about Liam then?" he asks.

"Oh, he'll be fine," Harry says, then pauses, tilts his head as if in thought. "Well, no, he says he's dying. But I'm pretty sure it's just a cold."

"It would be just my luck that the one time Liam gets sick is on Valentine's Day," Louis complains.

"Hey," Harry drawls, "are you saying I'm not good enough of a replacement?"

A million different replies fly through Louis' head in the span of only a few seconds. He settles on, "Trust me, love, you're definitely an upgrade. But I've been driving that van for three years now and I still can't even name most of the shit he has in here. So good fucking luck to you."