Shit, you thought Larry was bad?

Fighting and Honesty pt. 2 (5)

((It's about mf time I posted this chapter, or any chapter for that matter. I sort of forgot about it for a while, then I fell off from writing for a bit because my mental health has been at an all time low. But, I'm over myself, and here it is finally. I lowkey think I hate it, but I don't know... and honestly I don't give a shit. You get what you get — we've been over this.

Also, TW. This is a continuation of the last chapter, so there are mentions of self-harm. I don't find it that descriptive, but other people might, so I'm putting this here again just in case.))

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By the time the couple has made it up the stairs, they are both eager and giggling. Edward keeps smacking the flustered boy's bum; he wants to hear him laugh, but he also can't help but want to touch his perfect ass any chance he gets. Harry is dangling freely on his lovers shoulder, laughing — finding no need to hold on; he knows Edward would never drop him. He's very excited to get upstairs; they need some alone time after the night they've had.

Edward goes into his own room, kicks the door closed behind himself, then throws his laughing twin down on the bed. He lands gracefully somehow; his perfect, shoulder length curls fanning out on the mattress, his arms resting just above his head with his hands facing up, and his shinning eyes and bright smile lighting up the dim room. Edward loves him so much.

"Fuck. How are you so gorgeous, darling?" He cannot help but say — while standing at the foot of the bed; untying the string of his boys's sweats. He lightly glides his fingertips over his milky thighs as he pulls them down. He's so soft. Once they are off completely, he then grasps his ankles; rubbing circles on his smooth skin. "I stare at you for hours every day, and I still can't comprehend your beauty. Just want to have my hands on you all the time, puppy."

Harry giggles softly and blushes red; wriggling around under Edwards intense stare. Sometimes, he thinks it looks like Edward wants to eat him or something — with the way he looks at him; hungrily. He sits up and tugs at the hem of Edward's t-shirt — signaling that he wants it off. Edward easily complies as Harry lies back on his elbows; watching as he removes his shirt — exposing all of his tattoos and obscene muscles. Harry swallows. God, his boyfriend is fit.

"Want your hands on me all the time, t-too, daddy. I-I really like it when you touch me." Harry says this with complete innocence, but he and Edward both know it's a front; acting extra cute to manipulate his daddy. Sometimes, it's genuine —  he really just is that cute. But, judging by the vast amounts of lust in his eyes and the very prominent bulge in his boxers, it's pretty clear he's got an ulterior motive this time.

"Do you now?" Edward plays along; he has always had such a soft spot for when Harry gets all cute and guileless like this — even if it's slightly exaggerated for show. He now lets his fingers stray from Harry's ankles, and glide their way up his calfs.

"Yes, daddy. F-Feels good." Harry falls so his back is flat on the mattress again, and lets out a small moan as his boyfriend's hands slowly make their way up his legs.

"That's good, baby. That's really good." Edward's voice somehow goes even lower, as he speaks softly, only for his baby's ears. "Because I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands off of you for the rest of the night."

Harry just whines in response.

Edward places a knee on the bed to balance himself, then leans down to place gentle kisses on his lover's exposed thighs — Harry's breath hitches at the spontaneous action; his fingers curl into the bedsheets. The kisses start off gentle and sweet; barely grazing the boy's skin, but it doesn't take long before he begins sucking a bit harsher — also gingerly nibbling at the soft flesh. It wasn't his intention, but he leaves faint, red love bites in his wake as he kisses up his body.