Larry One Shots

The Lavender Sweater (Smut)

When they finally got off the elevator the entire group exhaled as if they’d been holding their breath for a moment when they could actually feel like they were breathing. Harry immediately gravitates to Louis’ side, happy he finally can, exhausted that he hasn’t been able to. Louis gives him a small smile and grabs his hand. The group splits off one by one, muttering quiet goodbyes. 

Louis and Harry get to their door and both of them won’t say it, but they’re glad they decided to stay in the hotel, together. Louis takes off his hoody and kicks off his shoes before flying into their 50,000 count egyptian cotton bed. Harry just smiles, moving slowly and picking up after Lou as he goes. He’s at the foot of the bed and takes off the lavender sweater he’d been swimming in all day.

"Lou, I’m gonna shower. M’gross."

"You are, get out of here," Louis jokes, staring at his awkward boyfriend as he seems to stumble to the bathroom in a tangle of limbs and no grace. When he hears the water start he stares at the sweater folded neatly at the edge of the bed. He still wonders to this day what’s the point of folding everything if he’s only going to throw it all in his suitcase anyway. He smiles to himself as he remembers Harry giving him a lecture about how most people don’t just toss clothes into suitcases and hope for the best. Before he knows it, he’s taking off all of his clothes and sliding the sweater over him. 

He likes that Harry gets cold quickly. It means by the time Louis gets to Harry’s clothes they smells like whatever cologne he felt like putting on, but mostly that earthly scent that’s purely his. He turns up the a.c. as an excuse to keep it on and looks at himself in the mirror. Louis giggles to himself because the sweater is past mid-thigh and his chest piece is almost completely visible — he’s just swimming in it. But it looks pretty and he feels pretty and even with how tired he is there is no doubt he’s going to want whatever Harry feels like offering when he sees him in his clothes. 

The shower cuts off and Louis jumps into bed, waiting for his boyfriend to come out. He’s always found it funny that despite how neat Harry is, the younger boy always soaks the floor in the shower like he’s too lazy to dry himself completely. Sometimes he just reminds Louis of a puppy; he just shakes and hopes his entire body dries as well as his mop of hair. 

When the door opens Harry is staring at the floor, as if he’s trying to avoid tripping over his feet on the way to his suitcase. It doesn’t do much help. He looks up and catches Louis sitting indian style, in a too big sweater that is four sizes too big. Louis smiles. Harry groans.

"You don’t like it?"

"Lou."

"Harry, come ‘ere," Louis whines. Harry just shakes his head and tries to steady the shaking in his hands. They’re not new to this, he always wants him — they always want each other. Harry just has this thing where he can’t help but be so completely fond of and attracted to his pixie sized boyfriend.

When he first started tripping over his feet he was mad about it, complaining over his too big everything. But then he discovered he could wrap his hand around Louis’ side and that with just two fingers inside his lover, he could make him crazy. He was big and Louis was small, but it all worked out in the end. 

Louis smiles at him softly, they both get like this sometimes. It’s scary to look at someone and completely unhinge. Louis took longer than Harry to get used to it. When he felt like he couldn’t love Harry any more something came along and proved him wrong. Out of spite he always tried to fight back, until he didn’t. Harry still gets like this, shaken up and a little scared just from the all encompassing attraction he has to Louis. Louis has just let it go.

"Hazza, come here babe," Louis whispers, almost as if he doesn’t want to scare off his doe-like boyfriend. Harry complies, shaking the towel on his head until his hair stops dripping and climbs into bed right next to Louis.