larry smut

love me (like xo)

Louis watches from the doorway, leans his shoulder against the wood and watches as Harry's fingers tease along the waistband of his black boxers. He slips them under slowly and circles his fist around the shape of his cock beneath the fabric. He's never been quiet, biting over his lips until their swollen and dark, until the sound is desperate to come out – until it pours out and he can't stop the sobs and whine and "Daddy."

Harry's hand moves easily beneath the fabric as he tugs at his cock, and his legs kick out, shift in the sheets. The tendons in his feet stick out as he flexes and Louis gets a flash of a shadowy bruise that he left on Harry's right thigh that morning. It's not too dark, just deepening at points where Louis' teeth had nipped the skin a violent shade of purple. It looks painful and Louis is struck with the urge to crawl up Harry's body and darken it, bite and suck at the skin until Harry is begging him to stop, to fuck him, to do anything. He gets distracted before he can though, as Harry's other arm moves from above his head and starts a smooth trail underneath the dark grey of his sweater.

Louis knows where his hand is headed, watches with baited breath as Harry shoves the sweater up under his armpits and then comes back to trail a lone finger around the deep pink of his nipple. The skin of his chest is flushed, like his cheeks, a rose colour that makes him look desperate, so terribly needy that Louis wants to walk in right then. He doesn't walk in, even though he slips his hand down and palms at his cock through his trousers. He's half hard already and his skin feels hot and tight as he stares on, watches as Harry's finger finally pinch at the skin of his nipples. He gasps, high and pretty, like when Louis brushes against his prostate with his middle finger and then licks just left of the rim. Louis bites at his lip, forces the moan in throat back down as Harry's hand moves beneath his boxers and his fingers pinch at his chest and he does well. He keeps all the noises back and avoids walking into the room until Harry opens his mouth and whispers out, high and needy.

"Daddy"

Louis' feet make no noise on the floor as he walks to the bed, and Harry's eyes have been clenched shut since Louis came in. He grips at the bony ankle, and Harry jerks, eyes wide and terrified as he sits up.

"L-Louis, when did you get in?" His hand is still slipped beneath his boxers, fist moving easily with only a few hitches in his breath but his sweater falls back down his chest, hand slipping to fist in the sheets. Louis frowns at him. Harry glances back over at the door, as if it should still be cracked and Louis actually just appeared out of thin air at the end of the bed.

"Baby, don't you know better than to play while I'm not here?"

Harry's eyes widen and they look so innocent, so deliciously guilty that he's touched himself without Louis. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pants and bites at his lip.

"No, baby, you put that hand back in there. If you're so desperate, you can take care of yourself. I'll leave you to it, " He says it with an air of finality, the tone that he uses on the dumbest clients. Harry looks stricken, stares up at him from the bed with cloudy eyes. His bottom lips wobbles.

"No, please stay." There's a glint behind Harry's eye, where he's fully himself and knows that Louis can definitely not pull himself away from Harry.

"Well, I don't know if you deserve to play with me tonight, baby. You've been naughty." He goes for his belt, unbuckling and tugging it from around his waist to toss it onto the floor, followed by his shirt. Harry watches him, chews at his lip and thrusts into the air. "You have to do as I say, Harry. Do you understand?"

Harry nods, holds his hands up for Louis and lets his lip pop out from between his teeth. It's slick with spit and a violent red. Louis raises an eyebrow, slaps one of Harry's hands back down to the bed.