Larry Smut

Don't Let It Stop

It's always been louisandharry. (If you ask Harry, it's harryandlouis because he's an alpha, god dammit and he is superior. Or whatever. He's just an eighteen year old boy, he doesn't know what he is. Sue him.) That's why it didn't come as a surprise to anyone when, after college, they decided to share a flat together.

Being an omega, Louis knew it was risky, but what Harry doesn't know won't hurt him. Louis just has to be sure that when he's close to his heat, he tells Harry that he's visiting family for the week.

It isn't lying, Liam is pretty much family, like. Louis has known him since year nine when everyone thought it would be cute to make fun of the twinky, little, male omega. Liam is– he's just, he's family that is legally allowed to f*ck Louis out of his heat.

Louis never really accounted for Harry going into his rut. So, when, on his way home from the market across from their tiny, not-enough-room-for-two-boys flat, he smells the distinct scent of arousal, he kind of panics.

For a second, he entertains the thought of someone breaking into their flat because even that would be so much better than the alternative.

A sudden cry of "F*ck, Louis!" followed by what Harry calls his "manly shout" that signals his orgasm.

What's Louis even supposed to do? Every instinct in his body is telling him to run in there and help the alpha because that's his job as an omega. This is Harry though. His best friend Harry who has always teased him about being a beta. Harry who now is one hundred percent sure that Louis lied and has actually been an omega this whole time. Harry who is undeniably attractive. Harry who currently seems to want to knot and claim Louis.

Before he can stop himself, he's shoving his key into the lock with clammy hands. He can do this, he can. Definitely. Totally he can. He'll just grab a few things and be on his way.

He steps in the flat, sees Harry, flushed and, yup, he's completely naked, in his bed, rutting desperately against his body pillow. It's only when Harry speaks again, sounding thoroughly f*cked out, possessive, & angry, that Louis realizes he can't do this. He really, really can't.

"Where have you f*cking been? Woke up to an empty flat, you know," yes, Louis does know. "Answer me, slut," Harry demands in his f*cking alpha timbre that makes Louis' knees buckle and he whimpers. High and throaty, a noise he didn't know he could make until now.

"Groceries. I-I was get-getting groceries," he manages to stutter out.

Louis feels himself getting slick, 'this is just too much,' he thinks as his hole begins to clench around nothing.

He needs to leave. He needs to get out.

Instead, he runs to the bathroom, locks the door, & strips himself of all clothing.

Louis grabs at some toilet paper and tries to wipe off some of the slick but there's just too much. He's crying now and he wants nothing more than to give in to Harry.

"Hey, babe. It's okay. You'll be okay, just let me knot you. Know you want it. I can smell how wet you are for me, that is for me isn't it?" that's Harry, his Harry and f*ck f*cking sh*t h*ll when did Harry come to the door?

At Harry's voice, he gets even wetter, borderline desperate and he can't even answer Harry, much less tell him to piss off.

"I'd make it so good for you, Lou. I would eat you out so well. Get my whole entire face wet with your slick, f*ck you with my tongue until you're so desperate for my knot that you're sobbing, begging for more," Louis whimpers because Harry has the most perfect mouth, pink and pouty lips, a slightly pointed tongue that Louis' sure would be able to wreck him within minutes.