larry smut

the ballad of an assassin

"Okay." Dr. Wexler answered, writing that down on his clipboard as well before looking at the couple, "How often do you have sex?"

Harry and Louis froze, both looking over at Dr. Wexler at the same time. "I-I don't understand the question." Louis said, running a hand through his hair again.

"Wait. Okay, so is this another one to ten thing? And, I mean, if it is, does one equal "not much" or is one like, "nothing"? Because, strictly speaking, zero should be nothing." Harry said with an awkward chuckle, looking over at Louis.

Louis nodded, "Exactly. And if we don't know what one is, what's ten? Is ten like, you know," He trailed off, looking at Dr. Wexler, who prompted him to continue, "Constant, unrelenting, twenty four seven, without a break to eat for anything. Not even to eat."

"Like Sting," Harry supplied, earning a quick nod from Louis, "Look at Sting's day job. Who else has sixty hours a week to put aside in the sack?"

Dr. Wexler sighed loudly, writing something on his clipboard before clarifying, "This is not a one to ten scenario. It's a straightforward question. How often do you have sex?" When neither of the two could answer, he wrote something else before continuing. "Describe how you first met."

"It was Columbia." Harry started.

"Bogota. Five years ago." Louis jumped in.

"Six." Harry corrected again.

"Right. Five or six years ago." Louis corrected himself.

Bogota, Columbia, Five or Six Years ago. The Hilton Bogota lobby.

Louis quickly walked over to the counter, looking at the person behind it. He reached for the gun in his pants to make sure it was there before quickly asking, "What's going on?"

The person behind the counter shrugged, answering in broken English, "Someone killed Barracuda, Sancho Varron. Police rounding up single tourists. Alone, sir?"

Suddenly, Harry stepped into the lobby, looking over at Louis "You two together?" Asked a police officer. Harry and Louis exchanged a look before nodding quickly. The police officer shrugged, moving on.

Louis realized he needed to act quickly, and so he pulled Harry into a closet, both of them listening to the steps of police officers. When the steps were safely gone, they looked at each other, a rush of excitement overtaking the both of them. There was the rush of danger, the danger of not knowing. "I'm Louis." Louis said with a soft smile.

Harry nodded, laughing breathlessly before shaking his hand, "Harry."

Midnight, Harry's Room, The Hilton Bogota

Harry lay across Louis' chest, their hands intertwined. Louis ran his free hand through Harry's curls, and down his naked chest, stopping finally over his heart. He chuckled softly, placing a gentle kiss to Harry's head before whispering, "I can hear your heart racing."

Harry sighed in content, squeezing Louis' hand before saying in a soft voice, "I don't want it to slow down."

Louis chuckled lightly, resting his hand on Harry's waist, "Stick with me and it won't."

Coney Island, New York City, New York, A Week Later

"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up and try your luck!" A rather large man announced, standing in front of a booth. There were two toy guns laying on the counter, a group of revolving ducks with targets painted on them spinning a few feet away. Harry smiled, pulling Louis over to the booth. Louis rolled his eyes fondly, paying the gentleman before handing Harry the gun.