One Direction Smut

"Nineteen" - A Smutty Larry One-Shot

http://littlebitofharry.tumblr.com/

An AU in which Louis’ nineteenth birthday is sometime in early May and Harry prefers burritos to bananas.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Louis Tomlinson cursed impatiently under his breath from where he leaned against his faded green ‘73 Volkswagen bus, seriously considering just leaving without Harry "I Guess I’ll Just Show Up Whenever the Fuck I Feel Like It" Styles.

Louis had only interacted with nineteen year old Harry a few unfortunate times over the course of the semester, but after every class in which Harry had taken the free seat next to Louis he left the room debating whether he should strangle Harry with one of the several horrid headbands he always wore or if bludgeoning him with one of Harry’s ratty boots would be more satisfying.

Louis didn’t know which God he managed to piss off this time to get stuck with such an unreliable and inconsiderate partner for the most important project of his first year of college, or why his professor had assigned partners like they were in middle school all over again, for that matter.

He remembered that fateful day one month ago clearly because that was when Harry came in twenty minutes late (shocker), wearing that stupid Ramones shirt he seemed to live in and sat down right next to Louis before propping his long legs on the small table they shared and retrieving a half-eaten burrito from his jacket pocket.

"Really?" Louis tutted in mild disgust when Harry took a particularly huge bite, dropping rice and beans on the table and sweeping them to the floor carelessly between them right onto Louis’ expensive new camera bag.

"Oh, sorry man. Want some?" Harry asked as he chewed noisily, smirking at how flustered Louis always got whenever Harry did, well, anything really.

"No, I don’t want any!" Louis hissed as he cleaned his bag off with slightly more force than necessary before sighing and pulling his freshly developed photos out from under Harry’s dirty brown boots, "and I would appreciate it if you would keep your feet on the ground where they belong-"

"Tomlinson, Styles!" Professor Aurand snapped suddenly, causing both boys to whip their heads up in attention.

"Since you two seem to communicate so well, I expect your joint final display to be beyond reproach. And for God sakes Harry how many times have I told you not to eat in my class? If you spent even half the time listening to what I have to say instead of stuffing your face like a savage you wouldn’t be on academic probation."

Perfect. Just perfect, Louis thought as he groaned inwardly and shook his head, the only smile he managed that class period brought upon Harry choking violently on his burrito. Served him right, the twat.

"Yo, Tommo!"

Louis squinted through the blinding California sun to see Harry ambling toward him, his tanned arms laden with plastic grocery bags and a lit cigarette dangling precariously between his pink lips. He was wearing his signature black skinny jeans, dark grey long sleeved Henley, those fucking brown boots, and an American flag scarf which held his unruly brown curls away from his face.

"Nice specs, nerd," Harry chuckled when he approached Louis before dropping his bags on the ground and taking a long drag from his cigarette.

"At least they’re practical," Louis huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest after adjusting his new glasses, trying not to stare at the tattoos peeking out on Harry’s chest. "You do realize it’s almost 90 degrees outside and we’re going to the beach, right?"

"No," Harry gasped in mock surprise, his green eyes wide with shock, "I must have missed that the first thirty times you reminded me this week. I thought you just wanted to hang out because you like me so much, Tommo."