larry smut

hurts so good

"Hi-- um-- I have an appointment. I believe it's with you, actually," the boy says, smiling and walking closer to him. Louis has to remind himself to actually shut his mouth, because it's gaping open. His voice. Fuck his voice, is so deep Louis could probably drown if he didn't at least try to swim to the surface. He doesn't know if he will though. Right, so he now knows his name, and off course the hippie guy with dark curly hair and eyes he could get lost in has a name like Harry Styles. He couldn't have a normal bloke's name like John Smith.

"Are you Harry?" Louis asks although he already knows the answer. He likes the way it sounds rolling off his tongue, but he think he would like the way Harry taste on his tongue a bit more. Louis shakes his head to get those thoughts away, not wanting to make this awkward.

"Yup. That's me. Louis, right?" Harry stretches one large, ringed hand towards him, waiting for Louis to take it. Louis looks at it for a second, swallows dryly and takes it in his own. Harry's hand is warm and his skin is pale. Louis can see a few smaller tattoos on his forearms and hand, but nothing that would suggest he was in the business of getting tattoos that requires a four hour appointment.

"Nice to meet you. So what are you getting today?" Louis asks realising he had been holding Harry's hand a little to long to be socially acceptable. He pulls it away and places it to his side, realising that probably looks awkward then moves it to the counter in front of him. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks, and he hates that. He is far too old to be bumbling like a school boy in front of a man. Or boy. He isn't sure of Harry's age, so to make himself feel slightly better about the situation, he decides on man. Sure the man is ridiculously handsome with full red lips, long legs, and green eyes. But he is a professional. Now is neither the time or the place to be drooling over pretty eyes and legs that go on for days.

"Um-- I'd like this, on my stomach. Like right below my rib cage." Harry uses those same large hands indicated the desired location. Louis nods along then looks down at the sketch Harry has laid out on the table. A fucking butterfly. Of course. Goddamnit.

"So you want a butterfly on your stomach?" Louis asks, not being able to keep the sarcasm from his tone. He was, however, able to suppress an eyeroll, so he gives himself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.

"It's a moth!" Harry exclaims, looking offended. Louis has to laugh because the pout on his lips is so fucking adorable. Louis just wants to kiss it off. "A Black Witch Moth to be exact," Harry continues, his pout only worsening. And Louis finds himself smiling.

"I see," Louis says smiling at him. Harry returns his smile, and fuck, it is just as devastating at the rest of him. The dimples on both sides of his cheeks popped with it, revealing straight white teeth, the front two just a tiny bit larger than the rest. Louis is fucked.

"Yup," Harry replies popping the 'p'. His feet are turned inward, like he is nervous. Louis decides to take pity on him, because he is a stand up guy, after all. It's not good for business to openly tease the gorgeous, pouting clients. Even if they are extremely beautiful. It's unfair how beautiful he is, really.

"How big do you want it to be?" Louis asks, then watches in amusement as Harry tries to show him with a hand gesture over his stomach. He changes the size at least three times. "Okay, fair enough. I'll print it up in a few different sizes before I do the stencil, and we can see which one fits best. I need to see your ID though, before we can begin." It's standard procedure, really. They need to make sure they aren't tattooing a minor without their guardian present.

"Sure thing," Harry responds, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a wallet from his obscenely tight jeans. Seriously, how did he fit anything in those. It is the mystery of the century. He hands Louis his ID, their fingers brushing accidentally with the exchange. It was an accident, Louis swears. "Alright, I am going to go back and do a few sketches and print off the paperwork." Louis glances down at his ID, noting that Harry is 19. Great, Louis hasn't been creepy and checking out a minor this whole time. Small favours and all of that. "Feel free to take a seat in the waiting area over there, or you can come back in about twenty minutes or so if you would prefer." Louis gestures to a selection of comfortable chairs to his right as he speaks.