larry smut

the filth II - 3/4

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280872/chapters/2811733

here's part three of the 'you'll breathe me in (you won't release)' series

~✰~

Harry knows it's too early when he wakes up. He can sort of remember Louis setting up the alarm clock last night after cleaning him up and taking care of him, and it's definitely not Marimba pulling him away from his dream. He gives it another second before declaring himself awake, and then finally realises why that even is. They somehow ended up with Louis spooning him, plastered to his back with his stubble tickling the back of Harry's neck and his cock right against his arse.

Also, Harry's completely hard. He's still hazy from sleep, slow and heavy, but the memories from yesterday start filtering in one by one, and heat twists in his gut in record speed. It's like he can still feel Louis' come in him, filling him and slicking him and dripping out of him once Louis pulled out. Marking him. Owning him.

Christ, he's grinding back without thinking, too groggy to actually wrap a hand around himself but too turned on to just lie still. The comforter drags over his dick and he bites his lip to stay quiet, hoping not to wake Louis up. The plan was to let him have a lie-in while Harry snuck out and drove himself to school, since there's no point in both of them waking up at the ungodly hour of 7 AM. Especially considering it's the day Harry only has classes until noon.

He also... doesn't actually want Louis to know he's gagging for it 24/7, as Niall so kindly put it when they'd smoked up and sent Louis mean texts. It might be another Teenager Thing. Harry's working overtime to prove to Louis he's not Just A Teenager. He hasn't come in his pants in a while. The persistent morning wood must go.

Or maybe it doesn't. He can feel Louis growing hard behind him, sniffling in his sleep, and yeah, feeling kind of desperate gets Harry squirmy and hot. Even if it is far too early in the morning, and he just got fucked and eaten out last night. A needy little noise escapes him when he sharply remembers Louis' tongue licking into him, wet and teasing and –

Oh thank god. Louis' hand brushes over his stomach and he mumbles in a devastatingly raspy voice, "Hazza?"

Knowing Louis' awake makes it considerably easier to move. Or at least to open his mouth and take in gulping breaths while he shuffles his hips back, getting Louis closer, harder. "Sorry," he whispers, but doesn't bother to stop. Louis petting him must mean he doesn't really mind.

Louis just chuckles and kisses the crook of his neck, his scruff rubbing his skin in a way that makes Harry kick his legs out. "How can you be so horny at half six in the morning?"

He wants to feel guilty, truly he does, but there's not really enough room for that. "Early bird gets the worm?" he tries.

Louis laughs again, his voice still deep and lazy. Harry should wake him up early more often. "I'll get it alright," he warns, and trails his hand from Harry's middle to cup his cock.

Harry tenses immediately and pushes into Louis' hand, moaning in relief. But they're still pressed tight together, and feeling Louis hard and there, sleepy and close and after last night – something just possesses Harry to murmur no and move Louis' hand from his crotch, over his hip and against his arse.

Louis' breath hitches and he squeezes him automatically. "Yeah? Again?"

Harry nods into his pillow, feeling his undoubtedly messy curls springing over his forehead. He moves faster against Louis, like he could just make it happen on his own. He would if he could. He'd have Louis inside him all the time. Jesus, he's talking dirty inside his own head, what the fuck did Louis Tomlinson do to him? "Again."