Larry Smut One-Shots

Louis stood nervously in front of a large oak door with a dull brass knocker. Pushing up his rectangular frames, his feet skittered about as he chased himself in a circle.

Should he knock?

Should he not?

The bundle of wilted morning glories that Louis had bought on the way to Harry's flat was slowly slipping out of his sweaty palms. He could feel his heart lurching about, as if it were deciding whether or not to keep beating. 

Louis ran a hand through his mess of waves on his head and inhaled deeply. He kept the breath in him and squeezed his eyes shut. Fumbling forward, he reached for the knocker for the door. His small but nimble fingers slipped through the cool metal ring. Louis' index rubbed slightly against the curvature of it and he pulled it back. Thumping it against the wood a couple times, he released his breath.

Desperately trying to calm down his pulse rate, he practiced what he'd say in his head.

"Hey Harry. I need to tell you someth-" 

His thought pattern was interrupted by a cool rush of air in his face, signifying a door that opened. 

Louis' eyelids flipped upwards and his stormy blue irises scanned the boy in front of him eagerly.

Harry towered over short little Louis, his form taking up the entire doorway.

And he had no shirt on.

Louis' brain short-circuited. 

"H-hi Harry." he squeaked. 

Harry's figure was hollowed by the dark behind him, his back facing the light, making the rays of artificial sun filter over and around his silhouette. 

He was an angel.

Harry's pale, but not too pale, skin was gleaming with the perspiration of someone fresh out of a hot shower. His white t-shirt was slung carelessly over his shoulder as his dark skinny jeans hugged his every body curve. His butterfly tattoo seemed to flutter on his toned stomach as Louis' vision swam. 

His jeans were unbuttoned, his belt undone in the loops of his pants. Two fern leaves decorated his pronounced v-lines, as the birds on his collarbone flew free. 

Louis stood for a moment, trying to rally his brain back into his head.

Harry chuckled in his deep, raspy tone.

"Hey, Lou."

Everything Harry did seemed natural, almost effortless.

And meanwhile, Louis was a bumbling idiot.

"Come on in, you know the drill. I gave you the flat key, didn't I? Why don't you use it?"

"O-oh. I f-forgot it at h-home?"

Great. Now Louis was answering questions with questions.

But truth be told, he liked getting answered at the door by Harry.

And him being half-dressed today was a bittersweet surprise.

Harry just laughed again and turned on his bare heel, letting Louis totter past him.

Harry's house had almost a rustic feel to it. 

Mostly decorated with dark wood, his furniture was authentic leather. The rug was the only light object in the room, being a creamy pale color that was soft to the touch.

Louis stumbled his way to the couch and plopped down on it. His sweaty palms were probably watering the flowers. 

The flowers. Shit.

Louis rose back up and made his way to the kitchen, where Harry was preparing their ritualistic tea. 

His face in flames and flushed creatively with different shades of red, he stuck out his arm in a stick-like manner with the morning glories in his wet fist.

"I g-got you these."

Harry leaned back against the cabinet as the tea brewed.

A corner of his plump pink lips curled up into his heart-stomping smirk. 

But unexpectedly, the other corner rose, too.

His teeth broke through and he was full out grinning. 

Harry's long fingers gently pried the flowers from Louis' hand.

They both felt a shock at the contact of their skin.

Louis jumped and his glasses knocked off his nose, landing on the floor with a small clink.

Harry and Louis simultaneously bent over at once to pick up the glasses. Their heads rammed into each other with a thud, as their hands met once again on the black plastic frames.

They stayed still for a moment, relishing the feel of their hands together. 

Harry's neck craned upwards to look at Louis. 

Louis' neck craned upwards to look at Harry.

And they were nose to nose.

Face to face.

Louis took a deep breath.

This was it.

He was about to do what he came for.

His small hand closed around Harry's large one as they slowly straightened their bodies into a standing position. 

Harry pressed the flowers onto the counter, his eyes not breaking gaze from Louis'.

Louis took another deep breath.

"Harry. There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time and I never knew how to put it into words and I still don't and gosh, I'm awkward at this maybe I should-"

And the next thing he knew, Harry's hand was on his neck.

"If you don't know how to tell me, then show me."